Holding Onto You
by taekemeaway
Summary: Once, I was an employee of WICKED. When I knew that was over, I squeezed his hand and I told him it would be alright. It was the first lie I told him. Now, I'm just a lab rat stuck in a maze, he's been wiped from my memory, and every breath could be my last. Eventual Minho/OC, Glade before Thomas, not canon with The Fever Code
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

 **Year 231 - WICKED Base**

* * *

I don't know why I called him to the information archives, it's probably the single most stupidest thing I've ever done. He doesn't need to be a part of this, he doesn't need to know anything's wrong. WICKED will tell him some story about how I quit or got reassigned or some other excuse that couldn't be further from the truth and that will simply be the end of it. But - I can't do it. I can't leave him without an explanation, no matter how slight. He deserves that much.

I'm pacing the room, biting the pad of my thumb, waiting for him to walk in with his usual swagger. He'll reach out for me, hold my hands, pull me in close, and kiss me gently like nothing's wrong. That's just what he does. If he comes, it'll be the last comfort I know, I'm sure of it. Perhaps that's what it is, why I couldn't resist bringing him down here. I selfishly need him one last time.

When I hear the door handle click, I immediately turn and rush to him. Every instinct I have in my body should've stopped me, I couldn't've known that he'd be the one on the other side of that door, it was tactless and - I frankly don't give a damn as he wraps his arms around me, kissing my temple and nuzzling into my hair.

"I've got to hand it to you, Jo." He chuckles. "You're getting brave asking me to come make-out with you in the - wait, what's wrong?"

Of course he knows something's wrong. He's got the intuition of a man 20 years his senior. But he's so sweet and caring, I can't even bear to look him in the eye let alone tell him that - that I don't know what'll happen after today. I just clutch at his back and try not to burst into tears. Without saying anything, he starts to run his fingers through my hair. He's trying to soothe me and he doesn't even know what I'm about to do.

"Jo, c'mon, tell me what's going on." He begs, pulling away just enough to look into my eyes.

I shake my head. "I can't."

"And why not?"

"Because I -"

Someone opens a door out in the corridor and I nearly jump out of my skin.

"Jo." He says, capturing my attention again. "What's going on."

I squeeze my eyes shut to stop myself from spilling out my heart to him. Something I always do far too easily. If he learns about what I'm going to do, WICKED will torture him, surely. Punish him for aiding me. Though, he's already being punished. Punished for simply being immune.

"There's just -" I sigh, pulling away from him entirely but still holding his hands. "There's something I have to do."

"That doesn't make me feel better, Jo."

I smirk despite my situation. "It doesn't make me feel any better, either. But - bloody hell, I just need you to trust me, alright?"

"Of course I trust you, I -"

"Minho, please." I plead. "I wanted to see you because, after today, I won't be here anymore."

I caught a glimpse of emotion past his calculating eyes. He's scared. So am I.

"Jo, where are you going?"

"I don't know, just - I'll be alright, Minho. I promise."

"Jo, I -"

"Just go and know that whatever happens, I'll be alright."

I'm holding his hand tight in mine, to reassure him as much as myself. This is just - it's something I need to do. There's confusion in his black eyes, and yet there's also understanding. He squeezes my hand once before letting me go. He doesn't want to, but he knows how stubborn I am. We both know this would be the last time we'd see each other and we didn't want to make any more of it then it should be. That's just not who we are. Besides, this is WICKED. Nothing here ever lasts long, and we're used to that.

As he slowly backs out of the room, I turn my attention towards the monitors behind me. I pull up the statistics that I'd been examining for the past week, the ones the Chancellor never meant for me to see. Well, too bad she underestimated me. I review the footage of every child thrown into the Maze, I see the panic in their eyes, I relive every terrified scream, and I know that my actions are just. With my fists clenched on the console, I inhale and exhale deeply.

 _It's now or never._

I roll up my sleeves and begin punching in keys and commands that'll possibly put an end to this savagery. I break through firewalls and security measures to get right into the core of WICKED's systems, to maybe save _someone._ Maybe today, maybe tomorrow, maybe years from now, I'll save a child instead of sending them to slaughter. Except if I'm not quick, that won't happen. Looking at my watch, I know I don't have long. Someone will realise what I'm doing and then they'll do anything stop me.

But they'll be too late.

I'm almost halfway done when someone triggers the security protocols and the corridor leading to me has been locked down. Alarms are ringing all around, probably all throughout the base as well. This is game over. All or nothing, the last push. I swear - I can hear him. _Minho_. He's almost shouting my name and I have to bite into my lip to ignore him, I bite down hard enough for the skin to split and for blood to trickle down my chin. For me to ignore the tears springing from my eyes. Pain is the most successful distractor and I can't afford to let sentimentality deter me from my goal.

By the time troops storm the corridor, I've already done what I set out to do. I cast a sad smile down at the keyboard as I finish up, deleting the Wardens programming, deleting their schematics, and closing down the WICKED server. With one final keystroke, they override the lockdown and burst in behind me. I can tell they didn't spare the man power, and I can hear someone panting, and I'm pretty sure I know who it is. Slowly, I raise my hands over my head and turn to face him. I turn to face _uncle_.

"Jo." He breathes, his eyes angry and his hand itching to pull his gun and shoot me where I stand. "What have you done!"

"I've finally done what's right for these kids." I explain. "And that's more than any of you can say."


	2. Chapter 1

**Year 231 - The Box**

* * *

I wake gasping from a slumber that's hard to describe. I feel like I've been asleep for months, but also as though I hadn't slept in days. There's a cloud over my mind and I turn to my arm to cough into the crease. Blimey, I'm groggy as all hell and utterly confused. My head's pulsating like crazy and it just adds to my disorientation. I open my eyes and I'm surrounded by complete darkness until something flickers above me. There's some flashing lights all around, faint, old, they don't light up much aside from a few towering figures around me. I narrow my eyes at them to try and discern what they actually are. Maybe they're - boxes?

 _Why am I surrounded by boxes? Where the hell am I?_

I try to think how I got here and I - can't remember anything. That seems - that's not possible. I don't know where I am and I don't remember anything apart from opening my eyes seconds ago. I don't remember where I'm from, I don't remember my parents, I don't remember - _anything._ How can that be? It's just - it's insane. There's something nagging at the back of my mind, someone shouting - a name? Is it - is it _my_ name?

" _Jo, what have you done!"_

 _Jo. I guess I'll take it._

Everything's - it's all foggy. My situation is hard to register, let alone comprehend. One thing I can focus on, what I feel. There's something cold beneath me, it's hard and it's making this nasty clanging sound when I try to move. And if that isn't enough, even moving is difficult, my arms and legs feel unnaturally heavy. There's this high pitched ringing in my ear, like someone fired a gun too close to my face. I try to sit up and it just makes my head spin. I try to shake off the feeling, but it just makes it worse. And on top of that I have a roaring headache, feels as if I've been bashed in the skull with something hard and blunt.

Suddenly the ground beneath me moves, an alarm sounds, and then I'm being propelled upward at a breakneck pace.

"Shite!" I blurt out as I'm forced back onto my elbows.

My heart rate rises, sweat's cascading down my brow, and I prepare for the absolute worst. No memory, sensory deprivation and manipulation, nothing about this sits right with me. On top of that, there's a perpetual feeling of someone's eyes on the back of my neck.

 _God this is aggravating!_

I look up to see red lights in the distance, and they're getting closer. There's a metal hatch above me and I'm approaching it much too fast. I brace myself against the chain link walls around me, ready to be turned into minced meat, when my cage starts to slow. Eventually it stops entirely.

 _What the bloody hell is going on?_

I don't know how much time passes, but it feels like forever. The alarm's stopped for the moment; now my panicked breath is all I hear. At some point, a different alarm echoes around me and the metal hatch opens. Glaring light shines right into my eyes and practically blinds me. I - I think people are whispering around me, I just can't hear a damn word they're saying. That last alarm left my ears ringing again. Out of nowhere there's a loud screeching sound, it sounds like old hinges, and the light on my face just gets worse.

"C'mon, someone help the Greenie out before he klunks his pants. I don't want to be the one to clean that muck up."

It's the first thing I can hear clearly, and suddenly the warmth on my face is mostly gone. I crack open my eyes and find several people leering down at me, at least 30, probably more. I have no idea who they are, where I am, or anything of the like. This intense panic takes hold in my chest and I sit up as quickly as I can, backing myself into a corner in some futile attempt to get away from whoever these people are.

Of course, this doesn't stop them. Someone jumps down into this metal contraption I've woken up in. They start inching their way towards me slowly, their hands held out in the hopes to placate me. To no avail. Then, almost immediately, everything starts to slow down around me. My heart keeps racing, but I'm able to calmly look around and I evaluate my surroundings. My eyes take in everything with perfect detail.

 _Boxes. Supplies?_

Looking to my left and then my right, there's a box labelled "Medical" with a faded red cross. I reach inside and I pull out a bottle.

 _Glass._

Without a second thought I smash it against the metal beneath me and point it at whoever decided to get close, ignoring the shards that pierced my palm.

"You stay the hell away from me." I manage to croak out. "All of you."

Being armed with a makeshift weapon causes the person to back off. They're looking over their shoulder at someone else, older, waiting for instructions. Looking for some sort of guidance to get me under control.

 _Leader_.

"Listen," he states plainly, his voice just as soft as his brown eyes, "I know you're probably well outta your mind, but we're not gonna hurt you. We're all here in the same boat. So don't up and nut me, alright?"

I practically snarl at him. "Don't give me any ideas. You just stay the fuck away from me or we're going to have a problem."

"I understand that you're afraid, let me just -"

"I'm going to say this one more time." I lower him a knowing glance. "I'm going to stay right here, you're all going to fucking sod off until I say so, yeah?"

"Just let him spend the night in the box." Someone says bluntly to the leader. "Keep a guard or two here to make sure he doesn't do something stupid, and leave him be."

"I say we just haul 'im out." Another adds.

"Too bad no one gives a klunk what you think." Someone else states.

"Alright." The leader finally concedes. "We'll do it your way, Alby."

 _Alby? Why does that name sound so familiar? It's not a common name, I think - do I - do I know him?_

He snorts. "C'mon, Nick. What else is new."

 _Again, I think I know a Nick. Maybe there's hope for me afer all_

Nick thumps his friend's ears and addresses the others. "Now, listen up you dumb shanks, the Greenie stays put for the night, and since I don't trust any of you to _not_ poke the rabid dog with a stick, Newt'll be charged with watching over him." He looks down to the bloke standing in front of me. "Just be careful, alright? We've already got Alex in to see the Med-Jacks, we don't need his second-in-command to be in the same boat as him."

"Like I'd ever get stung, or beaten up by some Greenie." Newt smirks.

 _What the hell?_ _Is all of this_ that _normal to them? Do people just get shipped to these wankers like a goddamn care package? What the hell_ is _this place? Why do I feel like - I've been here before? Like I've_ met _these kids before?_

Nick shakes his head and shoves the blonde beside him. "Don't get cocky, Runner. Now, the lot of you can get back to work."

Some people make some sort of protest, but eventually everyone nods in compliance and they all leave me to my own devices. Even the lanky one, Newt, gives me my space for the time being and I'm bloody glad for it. As they all disperse, I finally feel my heart rate start to level out. Once they're all gone, I place the bottle on the floor beside me and I clutch my knees to my chest. Nothing here makes a lick of sense and I feel it taking a toll on me. I didn't realise it, but I'm shaking uncontrollably. I'm completely drained emotionally, so I start crying. They're body wracking sobs and I can hear them bouncing off the walls around me. I'm finally alone but somehow - I don't feel as though I am. I don't think anyone here can ever truly be alone.

* * *

 **Year 225 - WICKED Base**

* * *

"Jo, someone made a mess, can you come clean it up?"

I look up from the game I'm playing to see uncle Janson in the doorway. Without really thinking, I nod, stand, and follow him through the base. It's not odd for me to blindly follow, I simply do as I'm asked because that's how my parents raised me. Be kind, help others, be smart, don't show your cards, be brave, protect those who can't protect themselves, be vigilant, don't get backed into a corner. They're lessons I've learned well.

"It's just through here." Uncle Janson says.

He's taken me to the hanger where several WICKED security officers are standing guard in two rows, looking at each other, and there's a woman standing between them with a tablet in her hand. Her name's Chancellor Ava.

"Ah, Jo." She smiles as she looks up. "I'm glad Janson found you."

I nod and she diverts my attention to the dark liquid staining the floor not two feet in front of her.

"I'm sorry for always calling you to do such grizzly things, but we're a bit short staffed at the moment." She explains.

"Can I get a bucket, ma'am?"

Her eyes wrinkle as her smile widens. "Of course."

As if on cue, one of the guards kicks a tub full of cleaning supplies at me. I quickly get to my knees and I start soaking up the sticky liquid. While I do this, Janson talks with Ms Ava. Of course I don't really understand what they're saying, I'm just a kid. But, in time, I will.

"Was it really Yves and Mills?" Uncle Janson whispers just loud enough for me to hear.

Ava nods then sighs. "It's a shame, they had such promise."

"Yeah. I actually liked them. But what about Group A and B's training? Are we going to forgo the physical and tactical lessons because we don't have time to screen and train anyone else for the position." He states.

"No." Ava says, confident. "Give it a couple of years and Jo will be perfectly capable of taking over for Yves and Mills. They were good teachers, Jo will be more than ready."

Janson snickers quietly. "Isn't that a bit gruesome, Ms Page? Even by our standards."

"Weren't they the ones who always preached to never let a perfectly good tool go unused?" She asks rhetorically. "Jo is just another resource. We can't afford to think of these children as anything less."

"Is that how you get yourself to sleep at night?"

"Yes." Ava admits. "If I even sleep at all."

Of course, I don't fully register what's happened. I don't register that Janson and Ava have just filled Yves and Mill's position. That _I_ will be the one training the boys and girls I see in the labs. I also do not realise that Yves and Mill's, also known to me as mum and dad, have been executed. I don't realise that their bodies are covered by white tarps on the other side of the room, and that I'm on my knees cleaning up their blood.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Woohoo! Gonna be a slow burn, so get ready for it because I hope it'll be worth it! Pleeeease drop a review if you can, they make me so happy!**


	3. Chapter 2

**Year 231 - The Glade**

* * *

It's been several hours since I arrived in the "Box", as these bunch of nutters called it, and I think I've finally calmed down. Well, maybe I'm not calm, but I'm pretty damn close. At least I don't feel like stabbing every person I see and I suppose that's a start. The secret is that I'm relaxing against the cool metal of the lift and simply focusing on my breathing. Something I feel like I've done a thousand times.

 _Maybe I'm not as amnesiatic as I thought_.

I listen to the sounds that I can discern, there's cows here, and I think I hear some chickens, that actually soothes me. Farm animals, of all things. I even listen to the strange inhabitants of this new place. They have a unique vocabulary, "shanks", "slintheads", exclamations like "slim it" and "shuck it", it's hard to wrap my head around. One thing I definitely know for sure:

I'm far away from anything I've ever known, even if I don't remember it.

That's probably what's got me - not rattled, but most certainly confused. Hopelessly confused. What's the point of wiping my memory and dropping me in this box to be delivered to some kids? If this is some convoluted kidnapping/ransom attempt, I don't see a point to it. There's far too many for us for that to actually make a lick of sense. Of course there's other possibilities, and none of them sit right with me. Well, one does, I just don't want to think too much about it. The thought alone sends shivers down my spine and causes bile to rise in my throat.

Sighing, I decide it's about time for me to vacate the hole I've dug myself into and figure out what exactly I'm up against. I use my hand to help me up and I - put it right in the glass shards.

"Fuck!" I curse, bringing my hand up to my chest and clenching my fist around the wound.

"You alright down there, greenie?" Newt turns and asks me.

My guard's been sitting patiently above me until now, not engaging his charge, and not ignoring me either. He'd be a pretty piss poor guard if he just twiddled his thumbs. Boys come and go, giving him food, chatting about a "maze" and other such tripe, he's been pretty - lax. This is honestly the first thing he's said to me since I threatened him with the bottle.

I sigh. "Yeah, just cut my hand."

"On the glass that you broke earlier?" He smiles. "Doesn't seem like such a good idea now, does it?"

I can't help but snort. "I don't know. I'm delivered to you lot in a metal lift with absolutely no recollection of how I got here, nor do I remember anything else, for that matter. Getting my hands on a weapon sounds real moronic, doesn't it?"

"True. But you're not completely hopeless. You remember your name at least." He says as if - as if he's experienced the same thing.

"That's the norm around here, I take it? Memory gone, except for your name?"

He nods. "Yeah. So?"

"So, what?" I ask.

Suddenly, he laughs. "Bloody hell you're a thick one. I'm asking you what your name is, greenie!"

I roll my eyes. "Well, it ain't greenie."

"Too bad I can't call you much else until you actually tell me what your -"

"Man, you're an irritating git, y'know that?" I interrupt him as I stand and reach out for him with my good hand. "My name's Jo, ya happy? Now, are ya gonna help me out of this hole or what?"

With a smirk, he takes my hand and pulls me out easily. "Nice to meet ya, greenie. Welcome to the Glade."

I almost rip this guy a new one when I'm rendered completely speechless by my surroundings. Despite my complete lack of memory of any kind, I know that I haven't seen the colour green out in nature in a _long_ time, and I'm stunned to be surrounded by it. Green pastures underneath my feet, green - trees, I think they're called - off in the distance, and even green plants climbing the walls of -

 _Walls._

That odd sensation that happened earlier, the slowing down of sound, of time, of _everything_ , it cascades down around me once more. Calmly, calculating, I examine what I can see. There are four walls around us and the Box is directly in the middle if it all. Each wall has a door, where the door leads I haven't the foggiest, but I get chills just thinking about it.

Next, I look up to the sky. Blue as far as the eye can see, also something I'm sure I haven't seen in quite a long time. Clouds are spotted throughout, barely moving, almost stagnant. Using the sun I try to figure out the time of day, only - I can't.

 _There's no sun._

Quickly I put this monumental fact behind me and focus on things that're immediately affecting me, things I can change. I look to my left and I analyze the trees I saw before. They almost engulf the entire - my instincts tell me it's the southwest quadrant. It branches out to the two buildings that occupy two separate corners in both the northwest and the southeast corner. I see the cows and chickens I heard earlier, people tending to them, they're living their lives as if this is all - _normal_.

"Greenie?"

Newt's trying to get my attention, but his voice is slowed, lower than usual. I have to shake my head for the odd sensation to lift and my eyes finally focus onto him. Time moves accordingly again, and I give him my most convincing smile.

"Call me greenie one more time, beanpole." I smirk. "See where that gets you."

He barks out a laugh. "Careful, Alby hear's you talking like that and you'll hold the record for quickest trip to the Pit."

I tilt my head to the side. "What's the Pit?"

"It's the place where we keep the dumbest shanks." He grins like he's just told the funniest joke in the world.

With that thought I'm overcome with the deep desire to knock this guy down a peg.

"Y'know, I assume that's an insult or something so you must think you're a real riot. But, to tell you the truth, you just look like a real tit because I haven't got a bloody clue what you're saying, mate." I point out to him, my arms crossed across my chest.

It takes him a second, but suddenly he bursts out laughing. "Y'know what, you're gonna be a right fit."

Before I can respond, he starts walking away from me, towards some fields off in the distance.

"Are ya coming greenie?" He asks. "You've got a long day ahead of you!"

What I really want to do is walk the perimeter of my new home, because I have a feeling that I'm not going anywhere anytime fast. Hesitantly, I follow Newt with my neck trained towards the sky, and I - I feel some sort of awareness. There's still eyes on me, eyes on _us_. They're watching our every step, our every move, and I realise what I am, what we all are.

 _Lab rats.  
_

The word resonates in my head, and I realised that something's - it's failed? I have no clue what it is, but a part of me just lights up. A smile breaks out across my face and I just know that I can do - something? It's so weird, I don't remember anything, and yet my body's still trying to drudge up whatever it can to help me. Feelings, sensations, familiar names, places, it's all there. Perhaps I'm not so helpless after all.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Thanks for the review! I assume you were one of the few readers I had before I took this story back to the drawing board and I thank you for leaving your thoughts! Sadly I went headfirst into this story and didn't stop to think about my original idea that I came up with almost two years ago! But here we are, Chapter Two and this is all going very smoothly! Reviews are my favourite and if you happen to leave one I'll love you forever! (Sorry for the repost, I was going to add more onto this chapter when I realised that I finished it off just fine so I'll get to work on the next chapter! Minho will be coming shortly, I promise!)**


	4. Chapter 3

**Year 226 - WICKED Heliport**

* * *

Each week for several months new boys and girls start showing up to the base. I don't know why, I just know that it's the first time I've felt excited in a long time. Ever since uncle Janson told me that my parents were transferred, I've felt - empty. Like something was wrong. Both him and Ava told me it would pass. And it looks like it has.

"How many of them are going to be here!" I ask, completely enthused.

Uncle smiles down at me and ruffles my hair without answering my question. I don't care, I look back out at the heliport and eagerly await the new arrivals. Some of these kids look panicked, scared, I wonder why? As if he's reading my mind, uncle assures me that they're going to have a great time here. There's games and tests, he says it'll be just like school for them. Plenty of sleepovers and lots of fun. While he explains this to me, I see one of the kids break free of the guards, he runs out into the sand and I -

I can't remember what happened after that.

Turning me away from the window, uncle smiles down at me. With a hand on the small of my back, he guides me to the kitchen. He says he's going to make me a snack after he takes care of some things and I can't stop myself from grinning ear to ear. I'm just so happy to have other kids in the base, even if I'm not supposed to play with them. Uncle told me why I couldn't, I just wasn't paying attention, more likely than not. I have a hard time recalling a lot of things people here tell me.

I'm sitting alone in the kitchen, swinging my legs underneath the island, waiting for uncle Janson to come back when someone bursts into the kitchen. It's one of the kids that arrived today, I think.

"Hullo!" I say as cheery as can be, smiling at him with my crooked teeth.

Honestly, he looks startled, and I can't figure out why. Looking over his shoulder, he darts behind the counter and out of view from either of the doors. Confused, I start to ask him what he's doing, when a couple of soldiers push through the kitchen door and look around frantically.

 _I know them!_

"Hullo, Amy, 'lo, Uldrich." I greet with a small wave.

"Oh, Jo." Amy exclaims, her hand twitching at her gun. "What're ya doin' here?"

I shrug. "Uncle said he was going to make me a snack, but he had to go do something."

"That's nice." She continues with a very strained smile. "Say, y'haven't seen anyone comin' through here lately, have ya?"

I close my eyes, focusing past what's happening around me to figure out the best course of action. I've been able to do this for years, mum said it made me invaluable as a tactician and strategist. She said that if the whole world was crumbling around us, I'd be able to stand back and see the situation more clearly than anyone else possibly could.

And I use this gift of mine to evaluate the situation before me. There's a young boy hiding not two feet from me, and he looked very scared. I can hear uncle Janson's voice telling me that he shouldn't be, that everything is alright, and I trust him implicitly. Yet - there's this nagging sensation at the base of my skull, that this boy is right to be afraid.

Maybe I should be too.

Making up my mind, I shake my head. "No, sorry. Can I help you find them?"

Uldrick laughs nervously. "Thanks kid, but we'll be fine."

Turning and muttering something to Amy, they both nod to me with the forced smiles I'm used to seeing. As I wave goodbye, they run across the room and out the other doors. They're gone, and some part of me feels this was the right thing to do. I jump down from the stepstool and circle around the counter. He's still there, clutching his knees to his chest. I think he's crying, so I pull out my handkerchief and offer it to him.

"It's alright, I'll keep you safe." I smile. "You can call me Jo, what can I call you?"

"I - I -" He stammers. "They called me Minho - but, I don't think that's my name."

I sit down beside him and pat him on the shoulder. "It's okay. Jo isn't my name either."

* * *

 **Year 231 - The Tower**

* * *

"Oi, Nick!" Newt shouts up from the base of what looks like a makeshift watch tower. "Greenie's up!"

For a brief second, I consider causing my guard bodily harm for his incessant use of that bloody nickname, but I decide against it. Looking up, I see someone poke their head out from their post, pale skin, red hair, freckles covering every damn inch of him, it's definitely Nick. He gives us both a big toothy grin before tossing a rope over the side, climbing out onto it, and practically dropping down in front of us.

Newt scoffs. "Show off."

Nick claps him on the back. "You're just jealous, and you know it."

"Jealous of some git who squats in the Tower all day? Fat chance."

The leader smiles wide at his friend. "It's a great honour to look over you filthy shanks. Besides, keeps me away from the smell, too."

"I hope you know you can't run away from your _own_ scent." Newt teases.

It's clear that these two are good friends and are having a good time exchanging not-so witty banter, but could they knock it off so I can get on with my life? I want answers, that's it. They can be all buddy buddy when I'm out of earshot and no longer part of the conversation.

"Excuse me," I interrupt, "but can we move on past this compelling discussion so I don't punch someone in the mouth?"

Nick pauses to blink at me in disbelief, then he starts laughing. "I like this one! He's got some bite!"

Newt nods in agreement. "That he does. He's right, too, we need to move this along. I need to get back to the Runners and he needs a tour so I'm going to go and grab Tim for him on the way."

Oddly enough, Nick doesn't stop laughing.

"Sorry, Newt, but you'll be giving him the tour." He grins. "Everyone else is terrified of the shank."

 _Did I hear him right?_

"Why are they scared of me?" I ask innocently. "What'd I do?"

Newt looks at me in utter disbelief. "Are you joking? You show up in the Box, nothing new there, but when I come down to help you out you smash a bottle and threaten to kill me with it! No other greenie's done that, not even close. They all just sit there and klunk their pants until we get them out."

 _Forgot about that._

"I'm sorry! I was scared!" I exasperate. "I just did what I thought I had to!"

Nick rests a hand on my shoulder. "And there's nothing wrong with that in my eyes. Until you start waving that broken bottle at me. Then we'll have some issues."

I chuckle quietly. "I left my weapon in the Box, don't you worry."

"Good." He smiles. "I don't want to think of what'd happen to you if you threatened Newt with it again. Alby's real protective of him. And when I mean protective, I mean like a guard dog. It's actually pretty cute."

"Shut it!" Newt protests, his cheeks turning a bit red.

We're all laughing when suddenly something loud interrupts us. Or at least, it interrupts me. My head snaps towards the sound, it's the open gateways out from the Glade. They're closing. I ignore Newt and Nick's attempts to explain to me that there's nothing wrong, that this happens every night, that it's nothing to worry about. I feel - trapped. This is even more of a cage than it was before. The hairs on the back of my neck rise up and I realise that I probably won't be sleeping tonight.

Then there's - something else. That sound is actually familiar, it's something I can latch on to. I don't know why, I don't know where, and I don't know when. All I know is that I've heard those doors close before. I've heard people screaming beyond them, I've heard clicking and clacking long into the night, I've even heard the scrapping of nails on a chalkboard. I know that it isn't a chalkboard though. I know that it's -

 _It's gone._

"Jo? _Jo!_ "

I blink then I turn to Newt. "Sorry, I was thinking."

He breathes a sigh of relief. "You turned white as a sheet, I thought you were gonna keel over or something!"

I shake my head. "Sorry."

"It's alright, this just means it's too late for a proper tour." Newt explains. "But I think there's still time for Stephen to check you out before supper."

"Check me out?" I question.

Nick nods. "Yeah, ever since Beck nearly died after seeing a - seeing something that spooked him because of some shuck heart condition, we have everyone checked out with the Med-Jacks. It's just a precaution."

I note that Nick almost let something slip that he didn't want me to know. I decide not to press it, it's not like they can keep it secret from me forever. Besides, I'm more actively concerned about some bloke called a "Med-Jack".

"Can you explain to me why you'd think I'd accompany you to go see a friggin' Med-Jack?" I ask. "Because that sounds like someone who enjoys jacking people up with meds."

Nick laughs. "Well, you're not wrong. But Stephen's alright, you don't have to worry about him."

I give him an incredulous look while crossing my arms. "At that was supposed to convince me?"

He scratches the back of his head. "Sorry, I suppose not. How about I come with you?"

 _I guess that's not so bad._

"Oh why not." I sigh. "And if he pulls anything, I'll clock him."

Newt grins beside us. "Looks like you're in good hands. I'm going to go get reports from the Runners, I'll be by later to check on Alex and to get you for supper."

I nod and as Newt runs off, I look back at Nick. "Runners? Like a messenger?"

"One step at a time, greenie." He deflects. "Jobs and everything can start tomorrow. For tonight, you just need to relax and stuff your face. Simple as that."

I don't really like these half-assed answers and light omissions, but I put it behind me. Nothing good comes from being aggravated.

"Oh!" Nick suddenly exclaims as we walk across the Glade. "I forgot to tell you that a Med-Jack is a actually just a regular ol' medic. We only call them Med-Jacks because when Stephen first became the Keeper - the boss - of the medical junk and he got to pick out the name, we _thought_ he wrote down Med-Jacks. The guy's got awful handwriting, so we had no idea that he wrote "medics" until he said it out loud. And, at that point, Med-Jacks had already stuck."

I'm staring at him in disbelief. "Ya couldn't've just said that at the beginning, ya wanker!"

Nick starts laughing. "What'd you just call me?"

"A wanker!" I snicker. "It's someone who - actually, I don't quite remember what it means. That's only a bit irritating."

"Yeah, it happens." He smirks. "Now c'mon, we're losing daylight greenie!"

Shaking my head, I follow closely behind him. As we cross the Glade, I try to ignore everyone staring at me like a bunch of bloody gits. There's something just far too fascinating about me, evidently. To start, I don't really like to be looked at or watched, makes my nose itch. So, fed up with all of this attention, I give them all the V. I don't think they know what it means, but I don't care. This small rebellion makes me feel better about my situation. No matter how fucked.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Thanks to some unforeseen bouts of extreme lethargy, this chapter was not done yesterday like I planned! But, here she is. Holding Onto You. I might tweak the last paragraph a bit, add some more, I just want this out so I can move on. I hope the bouncing between kid Jo and teenage Jo isn't too jarring, I'm trying to keep it to every other chapter. Also, yes Zoey! Rewritten! It wasn't really like I didn't like the story before, I just started writing it with one idea, and realised it was a piss poor idea and went a different angle. For others! Any questions about my Glade? I'll address them next Author's Note! Just leave a review or send me a message and I'll get right back to you! Ta!**


	5. Chapter 4

**Year 231 - Stephen's Hut**

* * *

Stephen's located almost directly opposite the Tower in some little hut by the woods. Apparently he's been prone to long bouts of insomnia and it drove all the others up a wall. He also talks to himself a lot, so that got him banished as well. Odd that that's all it takes to get your own place in these parts. Insomnia and pacing in the middle of the night. Sounds pretty mild to me, makes me wonder what I can actually sleep through.

As we walk through an open doorway, I'm absolutely starstruck by the odd trinkets Stephen's accumulated. He's got these strange twinning crystals dangling from the ceiling attached with string, and paper that twists when a breeze passes through. I reach out for one of them, watching the fake sunlight pass through the crystals and casting rainbow hues over mountains of books that're littered all over the floor. Medical books, books about plants and herbs, and this one by a S Meyer. There's a scalpel through it so I can assume that it isn't any good.

"Where's he get all this stuff?" I mutter quietly, picking up a ceramic egg that's being kept stable by some folded up gauze.

Nick's leaning against the door frame behind me. "Some of it comes up in the Box, the rest he makes."

I look back at him with a smile. "So, he patches up you lot and makes trinkets in his spare time?"

He smirks. "What can I say, we're a bunch of renaissance men around here."

Without any warning whatsoever, a tower of books topples over. Along with the books there's a few beakers that I manage to catch, a couple of bobbles, and eventually someone who I can only assume is Stephen himself. Some bespectacled brown haired kid that's having a hard time standing upright. And that might have something to do with the piles of papers he keeps stepping on.

"I wasn' sleep or nuthin'..." Stephen mumbles.

"Real believable." Nick protests, crossing his arms.

"I really wasn', I swear -"

Mid-sentence, Stephen puts his hand on a stray paper and slips and falls back on his face.

"Aw, hell, Steve." Nick groans. "Can you at least _try_ to not look like a total idiot in front of the greenie?"

Stephen finally manages to grab hold of the corner of his desk and he pulls himself into his swivel chair. "Whatcha bringin' Tim back here for?"

Nick kneels down and picks up a bird folded out of paper and puts it in Stephen's hands. "Newsflash, you sorry shank, that was a whole month ago. I've got a fresh one here for you. His name's Jo."

Adjusting his glasses, Stephen nods. "Tha's fine. C'mon in."

Nearly tripping again, he stands and heads towards the back. Nick motions for me to follow, but he stays in the doorway. When I cock my head at him, he snickers to himself.

"Do you _really_ want me to see all your naked bits?" He asks.

Blushing I bit, I shake my head and continue after the lethargic medic towards the back of his hut. He nods towards a makeshift cot made out of wadded up sheets and a bit of hay, I take that to mean he wants me to take a seat, so I do. When he walks back over to me, he's got a syringe and an empty vial, a stethoscope, and a blood pressure gauge. Seems pretty routine, so I don't hesitate when he starts performing the tests.

With his hand placed on my chest, he groans. "I'm getting mixed readings, mind taking off your shirt?"

I comply easily enough, pulling my shirt up and over my head and tossing it on the ground. Putting the stethoscope on my chest causes a massive jolt down my spine. _Damn that's cold!_

"Sorry." Stephen mutters without even looking at me. "Just - give me a second."

Having filled out a clipboard with all of my numbers, he wheels off to the other side of the room where he has another desk. This one's far less cluttered, but there's a stuffed turtle just sitting there staring at me, it's got on some felt glasses too. Looks like Stephen's got himself a twin.

"Alright, everything looks good." He proclaims. "Now I need to do the physical exam."

I groan loudly. "Some part of me hopes I can keep my clothes on."

"You'll be sadly disappointed then!" Nick shouts from the other room.

"Nick, shut up." Stephen says before turning back to me. "But he's right."

"Can I just - not?" I ask with some small glimmer of hope.

He shakes his head. "Don't feel self conscious, big or small, I've seen them all."

I know that there's no way to do a physical exam with my tattered clothes on. At least not properly, still I hoped. I dreamed. With a sigh, I pull off my trousers and move to my pants when Stephen stops me suddenly.

"Whoa, you just go right for it, don't you?" He half laughs. "Let me pull out a few books, you stay put."

As I nod and Stephen leaves the room, I just take the rest of my clothes off, socks, pants, shoes and all. It's just easier that way. Sitting down on the bed, I watch a clock on the end table, it's a mechanical cat with a tail that doubles as a pendulum. It's almost mesmerising. While I'm watching the tail wag back and forth, I barely notice Stephen looking at me with his jaw on the ground.

"Nick!" He shouts. "Get in here!"

"What's going on -" I try to ask when Nick saunters in and leans against the wall.

"Did the greenie wave something sharp at you?" He jokes. "Don't worry, he's mostly harmless."

Eyes bugging out of his head, Stephen grabs Nick by the arm and pulls him closer to me. "He? Are you one hundred percent sure about that?"

Motioning to my nether regions, I cover myself up with the blanket. "What the hell, Stephen! Don't go around showing people my twat!"

Now Nick's jaw is on the ground right beside Stephen's. After a moment of deliberation, Nick ushers Stephen out of the room, claiming that he needs to get Alby before they do anything. What they need to do, I have no idea. Surely they've seen vaginas before, I know they've been referring to me as a guy since I arrived, but due to my lack of reaction to it that's probably been happening to me for a long time. What I don't understand is why they're so surprised by it. Surely there's other girls here and -

 _Wait, no there isn't._

Thinking back to when I first arrived, and every moment after, I don't recall seeing a single girl amongst the boys here. Everyone working in the fields, everyone who came to talk to Newt while he watched over me, all boys. They varied in age, of course, but this is just -

 _It's impossible, surely._

Alby arrives shortly after being summoned, and all three of them mutter amongst themselves in the other room. They're talking about how to explain it to the others, if they should, and what could possibly become of me. None of it sounds good and I've half a mind to run like hell. There's a window not two feet from me, and damn it's tempting but - I can't. Bloody hell, I really can't.

"Jo?"

I look up and Nick's poked his head into the room. He's got this extremely pained expression morphing his ging face, and I just sigh laboriously. Of course I motion him to come in because I'm covered. No more naked Jo. Not that there's any more for them to see save for me bending over and baring my arsehole to them. Alby and Stephen stay outside, and I appreciate it. It's hard enough for me to wrap my head around this new development without the whole Glade breathing down my neck.

"Why didn't you say anything?" He asks quietly, sitting beside me.

I shrug. "I'm used to it, I think. Getting mistaken for a bloke."

Nick snorts. "Well, you don't have boobs or anything."

I roll my eyes and shove his shoulder. "Don't remind me. Did you just come in here to insult my feminine form or are we going to address the elephant in the room."

He nods sharply, folding his hands in his lap. "I honestly believe that we shouldn't tell anyone."

"And I think that's a horrible idea." Alby chimes in with his usual stern bravado from the other room.

Sighing, Nick continues. "Look, if the smartest of us weren't suspicious _at all_ , and the only way we figured it out was by - well -"

"By staring me right in the cunt?" I finish with the straightest face I can pull.

Blushing, he smirks at me. "You surely talk like a guy, I think you'll be just fine, Jo."

I give him a reassuring smile, and it's mostly for his benefit. There's no way I can smile away this anxiety boiling deep in my chest. The mere _idea_ of being surrounded by this lot of boys is causing me to freak out, so I'm trying like hell to not think about everything that could possibly go tits up.

"Jo." Nick says, bringing me out of my rising panic. "You're going to be fine, alright? Only Alby, Stephen, and I will have any clue and we're not going to tell anyone."

I nod absentmindedly. "There haven't been any girls? Ever?"

He shakes his head. "We've been here the longest and you're the first."

"But -" I start, "there could be more, right?"

"Oh yeah!" He exclaims with a smile. "You might be the start of a whole new trend! It's nothing to worry about, I promise."

I let out a doubtful snort. "Says the one who doesn't need to worry about any of this."

"Of course I'll worry." He says, his tone serious. "You think that I don't care about the kids that show up in the Box?"

Realising the fault in my logic, I sigh and shake my head. "No. Definitely not."

"Good. Now, you should probably get dressed. Newt'll be back soon to show you the ropes. Best you not be completely naked when he shows up or you'll have another secret keeper." He half-jokes, standing and walking out of the room.

Once I'm finally alone, I rake my hands down my face in exhaustion. This day has just been one shite fest after another. No memory, no clue, and an anatomical anomaly to boot. Whatever this is, an experiment or whatever else tickles your fancy, I have absolutely no control. And that's perhaps what irks me the most. All I can really do in this hopeless state is to not let shit hit the fan. Stay under the radar, don't let anyone get into your pants, and try not to hyperventilate. The last bit being the most difficult part, I say. I mean, I'm the only girl in a horde of boys. I don't think I'll ever be calm again.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Thank you Zoey and my nameless guest reviewer, that's really all I needed. This story will continue as planned with a little smile on my face because you people enjoy it. Honestly, if this is all I have then I'll be peachy keen, promise! But! The waiting is done, Minho is up next chapter, get excited! Reviews make me smile!**


	6. Chapter 5

**Year 231 - The Glade**

* * *

It's strange to think that it's been a whole month since I was shipped to the Glade. No memory, an infinite number of unknowns, and it's already hard to imagine my life being any different. After all that fuss over my lady bits, everything's turned out just fine. My secret is just that, safe and tucked away, and I get along with the others swimmingly. No one suspects a thing, and why would they? It's not like I have any breasts to speak of and no one's snuck their hand down my pants.

Eventually, I stopped worrying about it almost entirely. Besides, after working with the Track-hoes, Slicers, and Med-jacks, I was eventually given a permanent job and it let my mind get distracted by more important things. I was assigned to the Builders under Gally. A nasty looking bloke, but he knows how to put a building up and get his job done. Two things I can respect.

Other than that, nothing of real note's happened since my arrival, except that today the Box is expected to come back up. A new shank'll be dropped on our doorstep and it'll be my job to give him the rundown. Sounds like fun, honestly. And I'm itching to do something other than hammer wood together all day. It's better than feeding animals, surely, I just hate the mundaneness of it all. I need a bit of excitement in my life.

 _More excitement than being possibly kidnapped and observed constantly by unknown forces? Perish the thought._

"Hey Jo!"

I look up and see Newt running my way. He's got a few minutes before he needs to head out into the Maze, some mysterious structure that surrounds us. They haven't told me much about it, I just know that it's dangerous. Of course I'll figure out what it is eventually, for now I'm simply trying to fly under the radar. And it's not as easy as I thought, being the first shank to attempt to kill anyone when coming out of the Box left a mark on a lot of people's opinions of me. Not fun.

"You want to head out early?" Newt asks, resting an elbow against the Homestead.

"Don't you have to get out there?" I return. "Mr Runner?"

He shrugs. "I've got time. Lewis and Clark can manage without me."

"If I recall correctly, Alex said that he needs all Runners out there, everyday. You don't have to shirk your responsibilities because of a new greenie on the way." I try to reason with him. "I was obviously special, but this nutter is my problem."

He rolls his eyes. "You're definitely some sort of special, Jo. So? You coming or what?"

I sigh because I know he isn't going to listen to reason. So I belt my hammer and stand. "Are you going to be the one to tell Gally that I'm quitting early? Because he ain't going to like this."

With a smile, Newt wraps his arm around my shoulder and walks me towards the centre of the Glade. "Who gives a rotting klunk what Gally thinks. C'mon, you've got a sacred duty to uphold!"

"Sacred duty?" I snort. "Helping some shuckfaced greenie is _sacred?_ "

"Of course it is!" He smiles. "Besides, if Gally gives you grief, I'll set him right."

I burst out laughing. "Alright, but don't come crying to me when he breaks your nose."

"Like that slow wanker'll be able to catch me." He protests.

"Fair enough." I concede, finally. "Let's go wait for the newbie."

"Good that!" He smirks.

An hour passes and there's still no sign of the Box coming up. Seems about right, it's not like it'll come up when we're ready for it. Though, apparently the alarm that nearly deafened me when I was sent up can be heard up here, so we'll definitely know when he's coming. That means we don't _have_ to sit here and wait, but a few of us do anyway. Newt's gone off to grab us some grub for lunch so it's just me and a couple of other boys sitting around the metal doors in the ground waiting for something to happen.

"What do you think this one'll be like, greenie?" Sam asks me.

Shrugging and tossing a wad of grass into his face, I say, "I don't know, but I don't know how he can outdo my arrival last month. I had all you shanks practically pissing yourselves."

"An' you had Tim _actually_ pissin' himself." Chan grins from across the hole.

Tim suddenly blushes up something fierce. "It's not my fault! He was waving this broken bottle at Newt!"

Chan snickers quietly. "Yeah, but he wasn't pointin' it your way."

"How did I know that he wasn't going to!" Tim continues to try and defend himself.

Patting him on the back, I smile. "It's alright, Tim. You know how Chan nearly klunks his pants whenever he gets near the cows. He's in no position to talk."

"Hey!" Chan protests. "It's a natural reaction! Those things're huge! They could crush me in an instant!"

"Yeah, real threatening." I roll my eyes. "It's particularly terrifying the way they just stand there chewing grass sprinkled with their own shite."

Sam's chuckling beside me. "He's right, have you seen the way they swat the flies off their asses? Scariest thing, I swear."

"Oh ha ha." Chan says sarcastically. "We'll see who's laughin' when one of them sits on ya and crushes yer ribs!"

"I know I'll be laughing." Newt intrudes, a couple of bowls of soups in each hand. He offers one to me, and another to Tim, then to Sam.

Chan just guffaws up at him. "You did'n get one for me?"

"Bloody hell, I've only got two hands! Didn't you hear me when I said I can only get four bowls? If you want some so badly, you can share with Tim." He says plainly. "That is if he's kind enough to fork some over after you picked on him like a complete git."

"Good luck there mate." I nod in his direction as I dig into my meal.

"Tim, Timmy." Chan starts in his sweetest voice. "You know I was jus' foolin' witcha."

"Slim it, Chan!" Tim refuses. "You could do without a meal, y'know!"

Chan's falls slack. "Wuzzat supposed ta mean, then?"

"That you should ease off Fry's Friday Fried Fritters." I grin over my spoon.

"But, honestly, how realistic is that." Newt defends as he squeezes in between me and Sam.

I nudge his side. "Don't defend that pisspot, we both know he doesn't deserve it."

"I defend you even though the first time we met you were waving a broken bottle in my face like a total prat." He combats. "If you deserve it, then he does too."

"Hey, come on, that was completely different!" I laugh.

"Not really." He continues with that cheeky grin of his. "But you keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better."

"It was! I was scared and -"

He starts laughing. "Slim it, Jo. I'm just pulling your leg."

I roll my eyes and shove him. "You really like taking the piss, don'tcha?"

"You do too."

All around us, everyone seems utterly confused.

"Do you guys actually understand what you're saying?" Sam asks honestly.

"Sounds like a buncha nonsense to me." Chan chimes in.

I smirk and fling a hunk of potato at him. "Newt and I are just far more advanced compared to you lot."

Sam snorts." Advanced, sure."

"Hey, Newt!"

Off in the distance, Lewis and Clark are calling for their fellow Runner. Newt looks like he's half a mind to ignore them, but they're persistent.

"We know you can hear us!" Lewis shouts.

"Alex is already pissed, try not to piss him off more, alright?" Clark adds.

Sighing, Newt shakes his head and finishes his lunch. "Seems like I'm needed elsewhere. Like that's anything new."

I pat him on the back just before he stands. "If I get attacked by the greenie, know that I want Fry to serve his biscuits at my funeral."

He gives me a lighthearted smirk before running off towards his fellows, buckling his harness as he goes. So that leaves me with quiet little Tim, Sam, and fatty Chan. We continue as we are, goofing around the Box, flicking pebbles at Chan, we're even joined by a few others. Winston comes up behind me eventually and pokes me in the back with his foot.

"Shouldn't you all be working?" He asks.

I bend backwards to look up at him. "Maybe we're all on break."

Mid-slurp, Sam agrees. "What he said!"

He scoffs, crossing his arms. "Yeah, real believable that Zart, Fry, _and_ Gally let you all on break at the same time."

"Crazy how the world works, innit?" I grin mischievously.

Just then, something moves and there's this crazy alarm. A very familiar alarm.

"Box is up!"

Boys are screaming this left and right, and people start spilling out from all corners of the Glade. Nick and Alby are the first to arrive besides us, next are the Slicers, then some Builders file in, then the Track-hoes, the Cooks, and everyone else. Soon we're surrounded by the same group of boys that circled around me only a month ago. Minus the Runners. Ever since Alex went through the "Changing", another thing I've yet to really learn about, he's had them all out there everyday trying to find whatever it is they're looking for.

"You ready for this, greenie?" Nick grins, clapping me on the back.

"Soon you won't be able to call me that anymore." I retort back.

He laughs at that. "Nah, you'll still be a greenie to me."

"Ging prick." I mutter under my breath.

We're all laughing and goofing around, but I can tell that we're all on edge. Probably still remembering our own trips up in the Box.

"Think he'll pull a Jo?" Henry asks Ray loudly, clearly meaning for me to hear it.

I don't bother to acknowledge statements like these that're happening around me. I'm too busy focusing on the sound of the Box travelling upward towards us. And, on top of that, I'm wondering who we'll be getting. Apparently the guy supposed to show me around, quiet Tim, he refused to come out too, but that's just because he was bloody terrified and no one could get him out.

Hopefully I don't get anyone like that.

When the alarm finally stops and there's this loud _kerchunk,_ everyone audibly swallows around me. Slowly, the hatch opens and we see our new arrival for the first time. He's Asian, black hair, black eyes, and he looks bloody terrified.

Weren't we all?

I look around to see who's going to open up the outer doors when nobody budges. Even Nick's a bit hesitant, to be fair, he hasn't been doing this for very long. Shrugging, I take a step in and drop down to the latch. Opening that, I crouch down and offer my hand out to our new arrival.

"Welcome to the Glade, need a lift up?" I ask in my friendliest voice I can manage.

He doesn't respond verbally, but he sits up and reaches up for me. I take his wrist in mine and pull him up with relative ease. Something that I've learned about myself, for being a bird I'm actually quite strong. As I steady him and he starts to turn in circles, everyone's finally starting to speak. They're laughing, calling him a greenie, and he's not listening to them. I can see it in his eyes. He's almost - surveying?

"Will you lot shut your gobs!" I shout over my shoulder, and by the time I've turned back, he's off running.

Not only is he running, he's _fast_.

Nick steps up beside me. "All of our Runners are out in the Maze and I don't think anyone here can catch him."

Before I can ask why this newbie needs catching, I see where he's running towards. He's running right for the doors with complete and utter reckless abandon. And that we cannot have.

"Shit." I mutter. "I'll get him."

As Nick starts to object, I kick off my shoes and break out in a sprint after this greenie. Since I've been here, I've gotten into a habit of running the perimetre of the Glade during the night. It keeps my legs limbre and my reflexes agile. Not only am I surprisingly strong, I'm also incredibly fast. I'm on the greenie in a few seconds, and he's almost made it to the doors. Without thinking I tackle him straight to the ground and we roll around for a bit as he struggles.

For a second, I almost freeze because this seems - familiar. The running, the chasing, and the inevitable tackling. I've definitely done this before. Recently. My thoughts are scrambled as the greenie nuts me right in the nose and I've lost my focus.

"Bloody hell!" I curse, rolling him onto his back and pinning his wrists up by his head. "Settle down you git!"

"Let go of me!" He yells, squirming in my grip and almost breaking free when a couple other boys finally catch up to us and lend me a hand.

One of them, Adam, pats me on the back. "We've got it from here."

"Nick wants him taken to the Pit." Moze adds.

I nod, letting them take him and drag him off towards the Homestead. Standing, I dust off my jeans and watch the greenie attempt to kick and punch himself free. Again, how he's acting, or maybe even he himself, is so familiar to me. I unconsciously itch at the back of my head, wondering who he is, and why he, of all things, is lurking around in my memories.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Tada! Here we are again and here's Minho, like I promised. I hope you like the other characters I threw into this chapter, there's plenty of them in the Glade and Jo's going to get along with plenty of them. To the Guest who reviewed (y'all need to type names in so I can address you specifically), the answer you're looking for would've been found in the following chapter had you read further. But, no, Jo is not a guy, not entirely. She's non-binary, meaning she doesn't fully identify as either gender. Hope this makes sense! More past stuff to come next chapter, I meant to include it in this one but it's just so full as-is, and was not necessary. The greenie tour is up next! Drop a review if you have the time? They make me super happy!**


	7. Chapter 6

**Year 231 - The Glade**

* * *

After the greenie's adrenaline pumping arrival, everyone's in high spirits. Everyone's laughing, getting work done, and I'm still waiting for the all-clear to go and fetch him. Nick assured me that I'll be good in a couple of hours, but I know that this greenie isn't quite as unstable as he seems. Him running for the doors was and honest to God fight-or-flight response. Holding that against him's like swatting a dog on the nose for barking at an intruder. It's just natural.

"Hey, Nick?" I ask our illustrious leader.

He looks up from the two by four he's been hammering. "What's up?"

I cross my arms. "If I go see the greenie, do I have permission to clock him if he acts up?"

"Sure." He says. "But it's not like he can get to you."

"Well, about that -"

"Are you serious? You want to let him out?" He asks. "You gotta death wish, Jo?"

I shrug. "It won't be that bad, he's not that big."

"You say that, but you know that you're -"

"I know what I am." I exasperate. "Just tell me who's the greenie that's outdone all the other Builder's since they've arrived? Even you?"

He laughs. "You have a good point. I guess you have my permission if you think you can handle him."

"Oh, I can handle him." I grin triumphantly. "Plus, he owes me after breaking my nose."

It's true, Stephen checked it out and the shank almost completely shattered it. He has one tough skull.

He chuckles quietly. "If that's what you really want, go for it. It's your head if he breaks free."

I can't help but smirk down at him. "You have no faith in me."

So with that taken care and a salute to our leader, I walk over to the Pit. This nasty little hole in the ground out behind the Homestead. Jackson and Billy are standing guard, the friggin' pricks. They've only got this job because they're the most jacked shanks in this whole bloody Glade and couldn't care less if they had to break your neck to keep you in your place. Of course you're never to hurt another Glader, that is unless Nick or Alby give you permission to do so. And that's something they both have.

"Shove off, lads." I say nonchalantly with a wave of my hand. "I've got it from here."

Of course they don't move. They just cross their arms and attempt to stare me down. Good thing I'm not afraid of them. So far, I'm not afraid of anything.

"Nick's given me permission, go ask him yourself." I groan, just wanting them gone.

Hesitantly, they look at each other but eventually nod. Then they're gone back to the Bloodhouse where they belong. With them out of earshot, I quietly approach the jail cell in the ground. Our greenie's just sitting with his knees pulled to his chest, so I crouch down to see him better.

"You going to nut me again if I let you out?" I ask honestly. I don't think my nose can handle another headbutt like that.

He doesn't respond, nor does he even make any inclination that he's even heard me.

I sigh. "Listen, I'm giving you one more chance here, and I don't do that often."

Still nothing.

Realising that just simply continuing to say these things with nothing to show for it would get me nowhere, I undo the knotted latch and open the door. Suddenly, he looks up at me like I'm some sort of shining light. Finally, I have his attention. With my elbows resting on my knees, I cock my head to the side and put on my most winning smile.

"Last chance, greenie." I say nonchalantly. "You coming out?"

As if gauging his very slim options, he looks over both of my shoulders. Then, with almost complete trepidation, he extends a hand towards me. Which I do not take.

"Hold on," I stop him, "you smashed your skull into my nose the last time I took your hand."

He mutters something under his breath, probably rhymes with "pit". Fitting.

I'm actually grinning slightly. "Look, all I need is your word that you won't try to flatten my nose again, then I'll let you out and show you around."

"I want to be left alone." He grumbles.

I shrug. "I can do that. But you'll be alone right here klunking your trousers."

By the look on his face, he doesn't like either option. But any shank worth half a damn can see the better option. And it's not like I'm going to shove him out into the Maze and listen to him get eaten. Not that he even knows anything about that, or what's out there.

Eventually, he says dryly, "Fine. I won't try to flatten your nose again."

"Sarcasm." I smirk. "You'll be a right fit here."

With that, I reach down and take the greenie by the hand. Using each other for leverage, I pull him out easily. Once he's standing right in front of me, I finally get a good look at him. Didn't get a good opportunity last time with him looking in every direction and running for the hills. He's actually a pretty good looking bloke. At least he looks better than the rest of the rank gits I've been living with for a month already.

"What's your name, anyway?" I ask as I dust him off.

He doesn't say anything, instead he looks at me like I'm positively raving for even asking such a question.

I roll my eyes at him, something I feel I'll be doing quite often. "It's not your friggin' social security number, it's so I have something to call you besides greenie."

His jaw moves from side to side, and then he says, "Minho."

"Good that, Minho. Now c'mon, let me give you the tour." I beckon, walking off towards the Homestead.

After glancing left and right, like he already knows that we're being watched, he follows. He jogs up beside me and looks around at the others that're just milling around. I wave to Put, then I run and get my arm around Ben's neck to give him a burning noogie. The greenie just watches silently, nodding a greeting here or there when I introduce him, and that's about it. I can tell this one's not going to be talking for a while.

I take him to the Homestead, the Bloodhouse, the Deadheads, back to the Box, and lastly to the Gardens. I introduce him to all the Keepers, as well as explain to him what the hell a Keeper actually is. Zart welcomed him easily enough, smelly lout, Winston gave him grief like he always does, and Gally just grumbled about me missing work to show this new shank around. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing exciting, nothing dangerous, just like I like it.

And, honestly, that's about it for the tour. It's not a big production.

Taking him back to the Homestead before heading to introduce him to Fry, I show him to his things. It's not much, just a cheap sleeping bag, a toothbrush, and the traditional care package. It's really only a single change of clothes but, hey, welcome to the Glade. Take what you can get here.

"See, we're not a bunch of loons." I try to reassure him as we spread out his sleeping bag next to mine. Glade tradition, evidently.

He almost grins, almost. That is until he looks out the window.

"What's out there?" He asks, pointing out the open doors.

I shrug. "We call it the Maze. But, what's actually _in_ the Maze, I have no clue. No one's allowed out there except for the Runners."

"How do you become a Runner?"

 _Is this bugger serious?_

"Listen, greenie, spend one night here in the Glade before rushing into being made a Runner." I say calmly. "I'm sure I can change your mind."

He doesn't look swayed, instead he continues to gaze out there. I want to explain what's out in the Maze, but keeping that a secret is another tradition amongst the others. Let the greenies either piss themselves from the sounds of Grievers or do completely fine. Apparently the ones who barely react either turn into Runners or Slicers. So there's a reason why there's so few of either.

"Alright, Minho, enough talk about Runners and the Maze." I sigh as I finish setting up his bed. "Dinner'll be up in a minute and I don't really want to wait in line for an hour. Fry always makes an amazing meal for Greenie Day."

"Greenie Day?" He questions. "What the hell is a greenie, anyway?"

I snag an apple I hid the other day and walk out past Bobby who's busy practicing his stitching. "It's what we all call newbies. I was the last one before you."

"So you're as much a newbie as me." He retorts with a smug grin.

"Not quite." I smirk. "I didn't make a mad dash for the Doors like a complete nutter, _that_ makes you the newbie."

"Did you just call me a nut?" He asks in disbelief.

I groan loudly. "Oh sod it all, now we've got a some new shank to break in! Newt's absolutely going to love this."

As we're laughing quietly to ourselves, the Doors start to close for the night. I look out to make sure that Newt and everyone's made it back alright. Of course, they have, they're heading out to the Deadheads, their usual rendezvous point. I turn back to Minho to usher him along, but he's just standing there in almost - I want to call it shock. It's a familiar look, one I'm sure we've all had. Looking out into the Maze and that brief flash of understanding that we're stuck here.

I knew I had that look on my face.

* * *

 **Year 226 - WICKED Base**

* * *

It's been a few weeks since I first took Minho by the hand and lead him through the base, and we've been sneaking out to see each other ever since. I never like disobeying uncle, I made an exception this time. I mean, I'm only ever allowed to play with Thomas, uncle says that I'll interfere with the other kids testing if I engage them. Too bad that Thomas is boring and doesn't want to play with me. So, Minho and I, we don't care. We usually meet in the linen closet on the third floor, only girls live on that floor and they're not that messy so no one needs new linens.

"What do you want to do today?" I ask as I hand him a juice box I stole from the kitchen.

He taps his chin. "Is the simulator down the hall up and running yet?"

I shake my head as I sip my juice. "No, it's still down for repairs."

"Dang it." Minho mutters. "What about the gym?"

"I think it's all set up, I just need to go grab a key." I explain. "I'm sure uncle will give me one if I ask."

"Is he actually your uncle?" He asks. "He doesn't look like you."

I shake my head. "No, but I've known him since I was really little and he's real good friends with my parents. So he's almost family."

"You've mentioned your parents from time to time." He states. "Where are they?"

"They're out on mission in the Scorch." I smile. "Hopefully they'll be back soon, I'm sure they'll like you!"

 _Lies. You know what happened to them._

Every now and then I get these sorts of thoughts, uncle says it's normal. A voice whispering to me. Then he pats me on the head, I get a tingling sensation at the back of my skull, and I feel better. I'll probably go and talk to him tomorrow.

"I'll be right back with a keycard." I say, jumping to my feet and waving goodbye as I sneak out into the hallway.

Unlike the other kids, I can move about the base mostly unchecked. The employees know me, and some of them are even my teachers, so my presence is never questioned. They wave, ask how I'm doing, they're all very nice. There is _one_ that doesn't like me, though. Her name is Joy, and she's anything but.

"You shouldn't be wandering about, now should you, Joan?" She patronises me.

I suppress a groan. "I told you to call me Jo!"

She crosses her arms and taps her foot. "I'm going to call you by the name your parents gave you."

"You've never called me Elizabeth before." I say, cocking my head to the side.

Joy's eyes almost bug out of her skull, she's just staring at me like I've sprouted a second head. After a second of doing nothing, she grabs Franklin who's just walking by and hisses somethings in his ear. He makes the same shocked face that she did, and she crouches down to my level as he runs off.

"Listen, I'm going to take you downstairs, Janson will meet us there." She smiles uncharacteristically.

I don't understand what the big deal is, I simply nod and take the hand she's just extended to me. Her grip is strong, _painful_ , I try to wriggle out and she squeezes harder. I realise that I don't want to follow her, I realise that something's _wrong_ , and I feel bile rise in my throat. Something bad is going to happen to me, I can feel it. I keep struggling, I keep fighting her, but I'm only eleven years old. How can I possibly stop her?

We come to the elevator and Joy nearly shoves me inside. I'm protesting physically and verbally. I know where I'm going, I'm going down to the labs. I remember pain, I remember screaming at the top of my lungs, and as we get closer, I hear the same screams. Only - they're not mine. Not this time.

"Can you shut him up?" Joy hisses into her ear piece. "I'm bringing Joan down and you know how she gets when she feels threatened!"

Suddenly, the screaming stops. The elevator doors open and a dark eerie blue light cloaks everything I can see. There's rooms on either side of us as I'm dragged down the corridor. In these rooms I see kids I recognise, one of them is more familiar than the rest. This tingling feeling spreads throughout my skull and I feel my jaw drop, then I'm thrashing excessively.

"What're you doing with Jimmy!" I yell, kicking and punching my way away from Joy. "Let him go! He's not supposed to be here!"

"Joan, please, calm down -"

"Jimmy!" I shout. "Jimmy! I'll get you out of here I promise!"

The boy inside stirs, his eyes crack open, they're bloodshot and exhausted, but they're not focusing on anything. He can't see me. He can't see through the two-way mirror before him. He can only see his own reflection, he has no idea that I'm here.

"What're you doing with my…!"

I'm interrupted by a sharp pain to the side of my neck. The room starts spinning uncontrollably, someone's holding me in their arms, and I swear I hear uncle talking to Joy.

"We knew that her implant wasn't placed correctly, we're going to need to reposition it. We cannot have her memories coming back, especially now that she knows that James is here."

"I don't see why we don't just shove her down here too. The more test subjects we have the better, right?"

"As goal-driven as we are, I made a promise to my friends. A promise that only one of their children would be subjected to the Maze. I don't plan on going back on my word."

"You're being too sentimental, Janson."

"Am I?"

Soon after, I lost consciousness. The next thing I know I'm sitting in my cot in my room and Ava is standing above me saying things that I don't quite understand. Her mouth is moving, and I hear what she's saying, I just can't make sense of it. All I can think about is how I have to get back to Minho. We were going to go play in the gym after I got a key from uncle. Unconsciously, I scratch the back of my head, there's a bandage there. It's wrapped all the way around my head. And my hair is oddly short.

 _Hunh, I wonder what happened?_

* * *

 **Author's Note: So, I hope that you're a little confused after reading the points from Jo's past, it's supposed to be that way. But Jimmy, who is he? You can take a stab at it if you want, but it should be pretty obvious ^^ I'm also trying to paint Janson in some different light, just because I'm not the sort of person who believes that anyone can be 100% a dick, there's usually more to a person than that. Also, deepest apologies, this story is on an unexpected delay since my laptop died and had to be shipped out. It happens a lot, I'm sorry. Next chapter should be out by the end of the month. Or, at least I hope it will. Reviews are the high point of my day, so I'd love it if you could find the time to drop one!**


	8. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: April Fool's! I released it a day later than I was supposed to! LOL**

* * *

 **Year 231 - The Homestead**

* * *

Everyday since Minho arrived, he's been running the perimetre of the Glade. Figures. Despite all of my pathetic attempts to scare the wanker, he _still_ wants to be a Runner. And despite Minho being a shuck-faced greenie, Nick actually wants him to _be_ a Runner. He impressed him when he made that mad dash for the Doors, nevermind that it could've gotten him killed had I not stopped him.

For that reason, Nick wants me to be a Runner too.

"You'd be good at it, Jo!" He exclaims one night at dinner. "Alex doesn't care if you're new or not, he just wants bodies for the position!"

"Because the only people who've died here were Runners." I lower him a knowing look.

"Pssshhh, so?" Nick dismisses easily. "What's life without a little adventure!"

I fork a potato and cram it into his mouth. "Safe. Secure. _Long_."

As he chews through the spud, he starts laughing. "Fair enough, but you should really consider it!"

"I have, ya git." I roll my eyes. "I'm still too busy wrapping my head around this whole Glade ordeal to even consider leaving it."

Nick picks up his bun and points it at me. "Don't you even try that crap, you made yourself right at home within hours of showing up in the Box. Most rapid adjustment any of us have seen."

"So my shock tolerance is higher than yours." I throw back. "Sue me."

"I would if I knew what that meant." He grins, taking a bite of his bread and sipping some water.

God, that's probably the most irritating thing of all. The memory loss and the subsequent kidnapping is one thing, but half the time when I'm talking these sorts of words just slip off my tongue like it's the most natural bloody thing in the world. Of course, the real issue is that I don't even understand what I'm fucking saying half the time. The 'buggers' and the 'bollocks', only Newt understands without any explanation. And it's a good thing, because I couldn't explain it even if I tried. I don't even know what our accent is, where it came from, or why we're the only ones with it.

It's so fucking maddening.

Groaning, I lean back against the wall. "Where is Alex, anyway. Usually he's off brooding in the corner while the other Runners have a merry ol' time."

"That's a good question." Nick admits, looking over his shoulder. "I don't see any of them."

I give him a disbelieving look. "Aren't you supposed to be the one shank that knows everything around here?"

"Alby's better at that than me." He half-grins, half-grimaces. He's worried now.

I reach across the table and pat him on the arm. "I'm sure everything's fine, there's Newt over there!"

And I'm not wrong, he's crossing the room towards us, and at an increased pace. Something's not right. I can tell in his brown eyes. I try not to watch too intently as he leans down and whispers in Nick's ear, but the change in our leader's demeanour is not something even an idiot could miss.

Suddenly, he sighs and looks down at his meal. "Thanks, Newt. Did you bring him back?"

Newt nods. "He's with Stephen. Thought he could be saved, maybe."

"You did the right thing." Nick says without looking up. "I'll make the announcement. You go tell Alby, he's finishing up some repairs at the Bloodhouse."

Newt puts his hand on Nick's shoulder, and the two share a moment of silence. Someone's dead. One of the Runner's, most likely. It doesn't faze me, surprisingly. I don't think anything honestly can, not the Doors and not the Grievers. Maybe I _do_ have what it takes to be a Runner after all.

"You don't have to play dumb." Nick says quietly. "You're too smart for that."

Before I can respond, he finishes his mug of water and stands up on the table.

"Listen up, everyone!" He shouts over the previously raucous hall, the second he opened his mouth they all shut their traps. "I've got some bad news. This afternoon in the Maze, Alex got outsmarted by the changing walls. Now Newt's going to be the new Keeper of the Runners, and a spot just opened up to replace him. We're also going to need a couple people to step up and bury Alex. I know it's not the ideal job, burying a friend, but it's gotta be done. That's all."

Sitting back down, I can tell this whole ordeal has taken its toll on Nick. He's been the leader of this rag tag bunch of kids for only a few months, and he's already seen four friends die. And looking at him, he's barely older than me, we might even be the same age. Not that I actually know how old I am, I can only guess at somewhere around sixteen. If that.

The point is, he's too young for this, we all are.

"Hey, Nick." I try to capture his attention. "I'll take care of Alex, alright?"

He shakes his head. "No, Jo. You're still classified as a greenie, I'm not going to let you traumatise yourself."

"I'll be fine, Nick." I reassure him. "You know me, do you honestly think I'll just piss my pants like some babe because of a dead body?"

Looking up at me in confusion, he shakes his head some more. "I never understand you. Maybe you're jacked, maybe you're just plain stupid. Whatever, you go take care of it if you feel up to it. I'm in no mood to argue with you."

Being sure that no one's watching, I stand and quickly give Nick a reassuring kiss to the temple. He needs to know that we're all here for him. Well, at least I am. I squeeze his shoulder once before walking out of the Homestead and over to Stephen's hut. On the way there I pass the Bloodhouse and I catch a glimpse of Newt talking with Alby. Newt's leaning down, his head pressed against Alby's shoulder, it honestly looks like he's crying. As I pass them, I manage to catch a bit of what they're saying.

"- can't keep doing this, Alby! This place, it's not right! I - I don't know if I can -"

"Newt, stop talking like that." Alby interrupts him with a surprisingly gentle voice. "We'll get through this, I'll get you out of here I promise."

"I bloody hate this place, Alby!" Newt half shouts. "It would just be easier if I just -"

"No, don't you say it. Don't even consider it."

I might not remember much about the world, but I can figure out what Newt's implying, and it's not pretty. I'll make sure to hang out with Newt some more in the next few days. When I finally get to Stephen's hut, I see Lewis, Clarke, Beck, and Cai all sitting morosely in the "reception", as we all call it. Out back I could hear someone punching a wall. That's probably Émile, he has major anger issues.

"What the hell is the greenie doing here." Someone snarls, I think it's Cai but I can barely tell.

"I'm here to take care of Alex." I state plainly.

Beck looks up at me, glaring. "You didn't even know him, why should we let you near him you slinthead?"

"Because no one wants to bury a friend." I level with them. "I'm perfectly suited for the job."

That doesn't placate him at all, he stands and crosses the room towards me. "Listen here, you goddamn shank, ain't nobody touching him! Especially some jacked greenie!"

"Beck, settle down." Clarke commands. "Let him do whatever he wants. I sure as hell ain't burying him."

"Neither am I." Lewis chimes in, leaning back in his chair.

Beck's clenching his fists at his sides. "We don't even know him!"

"How much do you need to know someone to bury a body?" Clarke snarls. "Now, Beck, either shut up or get out because I'm getting tired of hearing your voice. Got it?"

I watch Beck's knuckles blanch, then he punches a wall and walks out of Stephen's hut. That's two Runners with anger issues.

"You do what you came here to do." Clarke says eventually. "If Newt thinks you're alright, I do too."

Nodding my thanks, I knock at the door to Stephen's inner sanctum to be sure that he knows I'm entering. With a quiet 'come in', I step through. Mentally, I tried to prepare myself for what I was going to see. In reality, I'm not prepared at all. Alex is lying there, stone cold, eyes half open, blood spilling from his mouth, and the left side of his body entirely crushed, I didn't think an arm could be that flat. And as I look at his right hand, the nail beds nearly ripped off, I can tell the wall didn't kill him. Not immediately.

"Why am I not surprised that you're the one Nick sent." Stephen mutters from his desk.

I shrug, my eyes never leaving Alex's mangled form. "Apparently it takes a bird to actually grow a pair around here."

There's a small glimmer of a smile across the Med-Jack's face. "Sounds about right."

I grin. "You're safe from the lot out there, right?"

He nods, then he looks behind me. "Probably. They still hitting the first thing that looks at them wrong out there?"

"Oh yeah."

Stephen sighs and moves over to Alex. "Grief does weird shit to people. Especially the Runners."

 _But not me._ I remind myself, everyone else has too.

"I've still got some stuff here to do, why don't you go grab someone to give you a hand then head out to the Deadheads to dig a hole. It doesn't have to be too deep, but try to make it a couple of feet, at least. Don't want our crops tasting like death."

He's trying to lighten the mood with a joke, or something close to it, so I grin at his effort. I appreciate it, at least, especially when I can tell everyone around here is struggling with this news. From what I know about Alex, he wasn't a cheery bloke by any means necessary. Sort of creepy, kept to himself, like Winston except with less cutting. Still, he had friends. The lot of Runners out there proves that much, guess that means he couldn't've been that bad.

Following Stephen's advice, I pass through reception and duck out of the hut. No one's around, it being dinner and all, and honestly I can't think of anyone suited for the job. Seems like something the boss should do, but by the look on Nick's face, he's not going to be doing anything like this anytime soon. None of these people are. Alex was one of them, a clear reminder of what can happen to them if they're not careful. And, at some point, I feel like even the Glade won't be entirely safe anymore.

Eventually, someone catches my eye. Minho. He's walking out of the Homestead and stretching his arms over his head. God, I must be some twisted prick to think the greenbean would make a good gravedigging partner. Then again, it makes the most sense. Who are the two people in the whole Glade most likely not to give half a damn about Alex? Minho and myself, the two newest arrivals. Of course, Minho could've possibly met him due to his desire to be a Runner, I just hope not. But I do hope that this will be a wake up call for him and he'll finally rethink the notion.

"Minho!" I shout, waving over at him to get his attention.

He looks up at me, rolls his eyes, and jogs over. "What do you want, Jo."

"I'm going to go dig a hole. You wanna join me, right?" I smile as big as I can.

He doesn't respond. He simply crosses his arms and looks at me.

"C'mon, Minho, doesn't it sound like fun?"

"About as fun as a barrel of rabid monkeys." He says sarcastically.

"Ouch!" I exclaim, my hand over my heart. "Surely spending time with me if more fun than that."

He quirks a brow at me. "You don't want me to respond to that."

"Man, Minho." I laugh. "I knew you'd fit in well here, I just didn't predict how well!"

A ghost of a smirk crosses his face before it vanishes. "I take it you want me to help you dig a _grave_ , not just a hole."

"You're a smart one, greenie." I return, patting him on the back. "You up for it?"

"I guess." He sighs. "There's nothing else to do around here."

I snort. "What a lovely sentiment. Nothing cures boredom like putting your friend in the ground."

This conversation is so bloody morbid, I'm actually a bit disgusted with myself. My ability to compartmentalise is frightening. Whoever I was before the Glade and the Maze, I'm sure I was someone to be feared. And that's not me being cocky, either. I can just - I feel it. Emotions, sentiment, they've never gotten in my way. That's just who I am.

"You said it, not me." Minho suddenly retorts and I'm forced to stop over analyzing my jacked up brain.

"Yeah, and I hate myself a little for it." I lament. "Let's go, I don't want it to be completely dark by the time we get out to the Deadheads. The place is bloody scary enough during the day."

Minho chuckles. "Who's the greenie now? Wetting their pants over a bunch of trees?"

"Still you, I'm afraid!"

With a laugh, I take off towards the Gardens to grab a shovel from the shed. Certainly, we'll need one. And as I turn to make sure the greenie's following me diligently, I notice this odd smile on his face, like I'm some sort of marvel. Minho's a strange one, I'll give him that. Strange and undeniably stubborn. Of course, he's also a good friend. Not that I'd ever tell him that, it'd go straight to his head.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Tada! Sorry, I actually could've had this done yesterday but I thought this could be a good April Fool's joke, but I don't think I quite 100% understand April Fool's Day! I'm lame, sorry, and sorry for this chapter going to some dark places briefly. More Minho and Jo next chapter, and definitely some more Newt coming up. And maybe some more of Jo's past if I see something new! Toodles! Hopefully another chapter out next week now that I have a new laptop! Reviews make me smile! Love you all!**


	9. Chapter 8

**Year 227 - WICKED Sick Bay**

* * *

For a while after some procedure, I was very sick. It was so bad that uncle and Ms Paige refused to let me out of my room in case I infected the other kids. I don't remember what I had, but it made my head all fuzzy and several days passed almost in a blur. So, maybe I left my room after all, I just don't really remember. I spent most of my time with my trainers, refining my skills, getting ready like my parents have always wanted.

"You're doing much better, Jo." Uncle says to me one day, taking a thermometre out of my mouth.

I smile up at him. "Can I go outside yet?"

With a sombre expression, he shakes his head. "I'm afraid not. Can't take any chances, you know."

"I understand." I concede.

"Now, let's ask you some questions." He starts. "What is your name?"

"Joan Pivert." I answer easily.

He gives me a relieved smile. "Where are your parents?"

"They're out on mission in the Scorch."

"Wonderful." He says. "What do you know about a James Belliveau?"

After a brief search through my memories, I can't muster up a single fact about a James Cordon. "Nothing, sir. I don't know who that is."

Janson lets out a sigh of relief. "What about the Maze trials, what do you know about that?"

"The Maze trials are going to be a series of tests done on those who've come into WICKED recently. They're being put into a Maze and are going to be tasked with finding an exit."

"Bravo." He commends. "Now, what do you know about the other kids here?"

"WICKED saved them from the Scorch."

"Excellent!" He almost laughs. "I think you might be able to leave your room soon. I know how dreadfully boring it is in here."

I shrug, a smile on my face. "It's alright, uncle. It's only been a week or so."

Something brief flashes across his face, regret, maybe? "Yes, of course. Just - one last question."

"Sure!" I exclaim, excited for the first time in days.

"You're sure that the name James Belliveau means nothing to you?" He asks for a second time.

I shake my head. "It means nothing at all. Who is he, does he work here?"

"No." He deflects. "That's all I need, Jo. You can go walk around if you'd like, I don't think you're sick anymore."

 _You were never sick._

That voice still hasn't gone away, maybe it never will. But it only lies so I ignore it. Of course I was sick, uncle wouldn't put me under quarantine if that wasn't true.

"Thank you, uncle." I smile up at him, trying to contain my excitement.

He leans over and kisses the top of my head, ruffling my hair, and leaves the room. For a second, I just sit there. I don't know what to do, I haven't been able to go outside for so long that I'm skeptical that I even _can_ despite receiving permission to do so. After not moving an inch for a few seconds, Janson pokes his head back into the room.

"Anytime, Jo." He smirks.

In one quick rush, I'm out of my bed and runnning to close the door. Glad to finally be rid of it, I pull off the gown that I've been forced to wear and I throw it into the corner of the room. Then, after dressing, I run out of the room and down the hallway. I'm so excited to see so many familiar faces, and even some new ones, I'm so excited. I pass the testing rooms like I always have, waving at the people beyond the glass even though they can't see me, and I keep running.

Eventually I'm running and when I turn a corner, I almost run into Ian, one of the security guards. Instead of colliding with him head on, I tried to avoid him. It sounds like a good plan, until I slip and I crack my head against the hard floor. It dazes me slightly, but eventually Ian brings me to.

"Jo!" He exclaim. "Are you alright?"

Holding my aching head, I try to nod. "Yeah, I think I'm fine. Can you help me up?"

As he takes hold of my hand and slowly pulls me back onto my feet, a few memories flicker across my eyes. I remember being asked those same questions Janson asked me earlier. Where my parents are, what my name is, and who is James Belliveau. I remember him asking me every single day for - months? _No, that's impossible_.

 _Is it?_

Shaking my head of those incessant thoughts, I smile up at Ian. "Thank you, Ian. I'm going to go play in the rec room for a little while."

"Alright." He says, ruffling my hair. "Just be careful, you shouldn't run in the Base."

"I know. I'll be more careful!"

Of course, I'm off running again like nothing even happened. All the while, there's a sensation at the back of my skull that I can't explain. It itches, and it's really hard to ignore, but I think I see Minho going into the gym, so I put it behind me and I move on. Simple as that.

* * *

 **Year 231 - The Glade**

* * *

Minho and I buried Alex easily enough, took a couple of hours and that was that. After it all happened though, I couldn't stop thinking about Newt and how he was acting. I couldn't stop thinking about him crying on Alby's shoulder. So, I decided to go check on him. I can't just pretend like it didn't happen, I mean, he's my friend. Perhaps that's all he needs.

He's sitting against the back wall of the Homestead when I find him. There's a pile of rocks beside him and he's throwing them at the wall in front of him one by one. And if he hears me approach, he makes no inclination that he has. He simply looks straight ahead, pelting the wall with all the strength he possesses. At least that's what it looks like, like he's trying to get through that wall pebble by pebble.

"Hey." I say quietly, taking up a spot beside him.

He doesn't acknowledge me, not even a little. This whole Alex ordeal sure is hitting him hard. There isn't really much for me to say, so I don't actually say anything. I let Newt unleash his anger at the Maze, I simply sit there with my knees pulled to my chest. The sound of rock hitting concrete is the only sound we really hear apart from muffled voices in the distance. Usually by this time the boys are all rowdy, wrestling and shouting over whatever teenage boys shout over.

Death changes everyone's perspective, even mine.

Of course Newt's hit hardest of all, he was the second-in-command of the Runners, and now he's been tasked with taking leadership with no warning. He lost a friend and got a new job all in one day. And I'm pretty sure he doesn't give half a damn about the new title.

"I need to get out of here." He says suddenly, putting his elbows on his knees and running his hands through his hair.

"It's gonna happen, mate." I try to reassure him.

He scoffs. "We've been here for months, Jo. And the only thing that's changed since then is that people are dying now. We're trapped, and now we're being picked off one by one. We don't know why we're here, we have no idea who put us here, we've just been herded like bloody cattle into this fucking nightmare. There's a Maze out there, that doesn't mean that there's an exit."

"Newt, c'mon." I protest. "You can't give up like that! There's no real reason for anyone to build this elaborate setup just to watch us die, I mean -"

"Wait, what did you just say?" He interrupts, something strange igniting in his eyes.

I'm slightly taken aback by his tone. "Umm, that building this big mouse trap is ill conceived and -"

"No." He states plainly, cutting me off. "You said there's people watching us. What do you know?"

I shrug because I don't think I've said anything too earthshattering. "I don't know anything. I mean, not really. But how do you lot not feel the eyes on the back of your head?"

Newt takes a second to gather his thoughts. "That - that makes more sense. That's what I've been feeling?"

"That's definitely what I've been feeling." I nod. "From the moment I came here - I can't describe it."

He inhales and exhales shakily. "Jo, this - it helped, thank you. Because if there's people watching us, then -"

"Then there's no way they just want us to die." I confirm. "I don't know what they want, but I'll find out."

"And how exactly are you going to do that?" He scoffs. "You've rejected every offer to turn you into a Runner yet."

 _That's a fair point_. I lament to myself. "I suppose - I'll think about it, alright? No promises though, mate."

He gives me one of his crooked grins. "Alright, I'll take that."

"That mean you're going to turn that frown upside down?" I tease him, shoving his shoulder.

He chuckles and throws my words back at me. "I'll think about it."

"Ass, I'll take that."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Sorry about the delay folks, got distracted by my boyfriend (my bad). Drop a review if you have the time?**


	10. Chapter 9

**Year 231 - The Glade**

* * *

Newt, he really wanted to turn everyone's frowns upside down after the whole incident, including his own. Since usually the Keeper of the Runner's just picks a new Runner and that's the end of that, he switched it up. Runner trials, it's apparently a thing for this Runner selection. A few boys offered up their names to become one of the prats who run the Maze like a bunch of nutters. Nick insisted that I do too, but I really don't want to be a Runner. Not yet. I will eventually, I'm not going to lie to Newt like that.

Of course in Minho's continued idiocy, he decided to throw his name in as well. So, for the past few days, I've been helping him "train". I'm just watching him run around in a circle and throwing obstacles in his way. That's really all I can do. I'm not a Runner, I don't know what sort of training you need. Yesterday I hit him in the face with some bread, he didn't like that, but I insisted that it was helping.

"Are you going to be useful in any way?" He asks me after I've been sitting in the shade for the past hour.

I bring out my hands from underneath my arms and I give him a sound applause. "You're doing really great, Minho! Keep it up!"

"Wow." He breathes. "You're so helpful."

"I know." I smirk. "What would you do without me?"

He snorts and starts running again. "I'd finally get rid of this headache."

"Oi!" I shout after him, chucking my shoe at his head. "Don't be a prat!"

Ever since I've been helping Minho, I've had that stupid feeling. I've definitely seen him running before, I've definitely sat on the sideline and helped him get better. What _was_ I before all of this? A teacher, maybe? I'm not that old so I couldn't possibly be that. I guess - I was probably his friend. Definitely. Just a regular old friend that supported him through his struggles.

According to everybody else, they only really remember sensations. There has been absolutely no recognition in the others, at least not like I've had for Minho, for Newt, Nick, Alby, Winston. Not that I've told them or anything. It's at least got me curious. I don't remember anything specifically, but whatever process that caused us all to "lose" our memories, it failed on me. Or, at least it was faulty to some degree. And that makes me smile. There's a rebellious side in me somewhere. I like it.

Watching Minho running though, that's getting boring. He's not getting better. He's mostly just jogging along because he's not really fighting for it. He says he wants to be a Runner and I've seen nothing to support his claims.

 _I guess I'll step in now._

"Oi, wait a minute, Minho." I call out suddenly, standing and motioning him over.

Rolling his eyes, he complies. Jogging over to me with zero enthusiasm.

"I've got a couple of ideas to put a little pep in your step." I say with a mischievous grin.

"I do not like how that sounds at all." He admits, crossing his arms.

"And that's why I'm your only friend." I smile innocently. "You don't like anything."

He snorts. "Especially you."

"Hey, watch your gob." I threaten him whilst wagging my finger. "I'm going to kick your ass into shape, savvy?"

Suddenly, he groans. "Why do you talk like that, no one can even understand you."

"Newt does, and he's all that matters." I smirk.

"Bloody hell, mate. I'm touched!"

I look over my shoulder and it turns out Newt's snuck up behind me. Just like the carefree nutter he truly is, he swings his arm around my shoulder and we both admire the greenie before me, covered in sweat. When I try to address Minho, Newt suddenly noogies me. _Bastard_.

Feeling kind, I just barely nudge him in the side. "Arse, and you know I'm a romantic at heart."

"That you mostly certainly are not." Newt disagrees.

I nudge him a little harder this time. "Don't tell me what I am or what I'm not. You don't know me!"

"I know you're probably the most competent greenie we've ever gotten." He says honestly.

"Should I go somewhere else so you shanks can have this moment?" Minho asks out of the blue, arms crossed.

"No, there's plenty of time for that later, I know where he sleeps." I tease with a wink in my friends direction.

Newt laughs. "No thanks, mate. You're not my type."

"Of course not." I agree. "You like them stubborn, angry, muscly -"

"Jo, shut up." He almost hisses, but the look in his eyes tell me that it's all in good fun.

I pat him on the back. "Fine, I won't tell Minho about your ideal type. Help me whip him into shape, would ya?"

"I don't want to give him an unfair advantage." Newt laments, and he has a fair point.

"I'd agree with you, but he's got absolutely no advantage right now. He's a shuck-faced greenie that pisses off almost everyone he talks to." I explain. "He had the gall to tell Fry that his eggs were overdone this morning. The greenie nearly got a pot to the face."

"Yikes, mate." Newt visibly winces. "You sure he'll make a good Runner?"

"Alright, can you shanks stop talking about me like I'm not even here." Minho interrupts with a roll of the eyes.

Laughing, I nod and motion for the boys to follow me. "I have a plan that just might work on you, Minho."

He groans loudly. "You've said that already, care to elaborate?"

"The only reason why you're dragging your shuck arse all over the place is because you think you're the fastest bloke in this damn Glade." I finally explain, heading towards a set of Doors.

Minho audibly smirks behind me, if that's physically possible. "I _am_ the fastest."

"Then how in the bloody hell did I manage to catch you?" I ask, coy as all hell.

He freezes, and I turn to see Newt holding in a laugh behind his newest trainee. The look on Minho's face is utterly priceless. Apparently he's completely forgotten about his arrival, when he ran like a total prat towards the Doors and almost got eaten by a Griever. Good times.

"That was just a fluke." Minho mutters.

I'm smirking uncontrollably. "That's what we're about to find out."

His face just falls suddenly, like he's had the most horrible revelation in the world. And maybe he has. That I'm going to whoop his arse at his own game, just like I always have.

 _Always have?_ I say to myself. _How long have I known this kid?_

"You ready for this, Minho?" I say as I jog off towards one of the Doors and ignore the damned voices in my head.

He's hesitant, and I'm not surprised. "And what exactly is this?"

"He's challenging you to a race, mate." Newt chuckles behind us.

"What." Minho questions, almost panics.

I can't help but laugh. "He's right. We're about to see if me tackling your arse to the ground was just luck."

You could almost hear him swallow past the lump in his throat.

 _This is going to be fun._

"Well, it was." He tries to bolster.

We're both just in front of the doorway and some of the other boys have gathered to see what's up. They're muttering to themselves, seems like they've sort of figured it out because I could swear that I hear Nick in the crowd taking bets. Newt's standing beside us, hand raised in the air, ready to signal Minho's ultimate demise.

"On the count of three, yeah?" Newt says calmly.

We both nod our compliance and assume the position.

"No crying after I wipe the Glade with your rear, got it?" I smirk at Minho.

"As if." He retorts weakly. He knows what he's in for.

"One… Two… Three… Go!"

Suddenly we're off like a couple of well oiled bullets. This is the first time I've run in a long while where I have any end goal in sight. Beat Minho to the other side of the Glade, and it's a simple task. There's something about air flowing around you, not due to wind or anything, but from sheer force or yourself, that's absolutely ethereal. I honestly don't give half a damn if Minho beats me to the other side, I never run for competition, other than competition against myself. Mostly, I run for the feeling of being unstoppable.

When I look back at Minho who's only a few steps behind me, I hear something in the back of my mind.

" _You're never going to beat my scores with that weak pace of yours, Minho!"_

For a mere second, I slow down to make sense of what I just heard. I only slow enough for Minho to get an edge on me, but I feel everything slowing down around me again. I started to recall a memory, or at least a brief piece of one. One of Minho specifically. That's - disconcerting, and the others can't know about it. There'll be too many questions that I'll have zero answers for. So, for the time being, I'll keep that to myself.

"You seem a little slow today, Jo!" Minho laughs.

And that, of course, kicks me back into gear and time is flowing normally again. I pick up my speed and pull up to Minho's side.

"Maybe you should learn to watch your mouth!" I manage to say before taking off like a rocket.

"I appreciate this competition but if either of you run into that Maze that's a night in the Pit for each of ya!" Nick hollers behind us.

I take note of what he's said because I actually hadn't formulated that into my plans. Not only that, we're approaching the Doors alarmingly fast. Minho doesn't look like he's slowing in the slightest, so I decide to call it. I'll let the bloke win so we don't get thrown in the slammer. I stop running, turn to the side, and start skidding towards the Doors. Soon, Minho follows suit and a huge dust cloud kicks up around us. Once the dust finally settles, I can see clearly that has Minho won the race. Laughing, I look up and concede my defeat.

"Alright, you win, Minho." I chuckle. "Looks like you're pretty -"

Out in the Maze, I see one of them. I've never seen one of them before, that I can remember, but I know.

"Griever." I mutter underneath my breath and scramble to my feet. "Minho, we need to get back to the Homestead."

"Want to go cry into your pillow?" He jokes, totally unaware of what's going on.

"No time for games, mate." I try to persuade him, offering my hand.

Finally, he quirks his brow at me and looks out into the Maze.

"Is that -"

"Yes, now get off your ass and lets get out of here."

He nods briskly, quickly finding his feet and immediately running back towards the Homestead. I obviously should follow behind him, but I can't bring myself to turn away. For what feels like forever, I'm simply standing there, watching this grotesque creature whiz and whir its way through the Maze like an old windup toy. There's something dragging behind it, a piece of metal that looks almost like at arm. Sparks are flying off of it and it seems to be completely nonfunctioning. Whatever it is, I'm smiling again. Smiling like a damned fool.

 _I did it._

Now, what exactly _it_ is, I apparently have to find out. Because there's a piece of me that remembers everything from before, I'm learning that slowly. I'm just separated from it for some unknown reason. Maybe that's how it is for the others as well, it's all there but hidden behind some sort of wall. Why I'm able to recall these fleeting thoughts and memories is beyond me, maybe my connection is stronger than the others or - it's weaker. Far weaker. For whatever reason, they screwed up with me.

 _And their mistake will be their absolute downfall._

* * *

 **Author's Note: Another chapter that was mostly done apart from a little bit of finesse. Thanks for the review and for hopping onto the Jo band wagon! Next chapter will probably be out as soon as I figure out what the content will be. I'm the worst, sorry guys. Keep the reviews coming I'm absolutely in love with them.**


	11. Chapter 10

**Year 231 - The Glade**

* * *

If I thought that Minho was unbearable before, I should've kept my lopsided mouth shut because he's far worse now. After being named Runner, the title went to his head almost immediately. Puffing his chest like some sorry peacock, strutting around the Glade like he was some minted prick from Windsor, I might've "accidentally" dumped a bucket of slop on him once or twice.

With his new position though, I don't see much of him anymore. He's running around the Maze during the day and once he's back he's usually so tuckered out that he just falls right asleep. So that means that I'm finding myself spending all of my time with far less intelligent or interesting twats that couldn't be knackered to stop itching their balls long enough to get any work done or to carry on a conversation.

Boredom is on the rise, and I don't like it one bit.

Since I've nothing better to do, I've been spending my time just simply surveying the Glade. Keeping an eye on everyone, making sure that nothing noticeable has really changed. The sky lightens during the day hours, darkens when it's supposed to, the Walls change in the middle of the night, the call of the Grievers plague our slumber, but that's how it's always been.

A couple of months pass, a couple more Greenbean's arrive, and nothing changes. I'm working on the Homestead like always, Minho and Newt are nowhere to be found until dinner, Alby's on top of the Tower maintaining his usual scowl, and not a damn thing has changed. This routine has grated on my last nerve. I'm all about safety, and there's a safety in schedules, in repetitive behaviour, but it's also dangerous. Maybe I'm paranoid, I just feel like something's going to change soon. And not for the better.

"What a runt." I hear someone scoff.

At first, I think they're talking about me and I'm about to accost them when I realise it's Henry and Adam, Gally's main Builder's and a couple of right bullies. They take extreme pleasure in trying to terrify the Greenie's. Tried it on me, Minho too, let's just say we both laughed them off and sent them back with their tails between their legs. Takes a real coward to make a 13 year old feel like shit, and that's just what they're doing.

The newest arrival, Niko, he's a sweet little thing. He doesn't speak much English, but he's got a big heart. He's currently working with the Sloppers, the least desirable job in the whole Glade, and he's always willing to help. So why these assholes think it's a good idea to get the newbie crying, it's not only beyond me, it's given me enough of a reason to put them in their shuck place.

I start walking over to them actually when I see them, both 16 or 17 years old, shoving this kid like they're tough shit. And let's just say I'm about to lose my temper.

"Oi!" I shout at them. "You both better be taking a piss right now or you're not going to like what happens next!"

Henry looks over his shoulder and lets out a sarcastic laugh. "Oh look, it's the princess. The fuck you want, Josephine?"

"I'm asking you politely to step away from Niko before you end up a bit worse for wear." I threaten with my kindest smile. "And by "a bit", I mean not only will I feed you a 5-star meal of your own teeth and blood, I'm going to take your sack in my hand. Your pitiful little pubescent sack, squeeze them just enough to watch the terror bloom in your eyes, and then I'll keep the pressure on. I'll keep it on long enough for your scrotum to rupture. And the best part is, you're not even going to be able to manage a little bitch apology when that's all over. You'll be too busy mucking around in a pool of your own tears. That in itself sounds quite rewarding."

The look in both of their eyes is absolutely hilarious. And the way they're both fidgeting where they stand just makes it even funnier, but I don't laugh. I'm completely 100% serious. If there's one thing I can't handle apart from stupidity and entitlement, it's injustice.

Henry's too busy trying to guard his boys, so Adam tries to be the tough guy next.

"You wouldn't break the rules, you don't have the balls." He practically whimpers.

I can't help but laugh now. "I've got more balls than you, I'll have you know. Because it takes so much more to protect the people unable to protect themselves. Instead of helping these kids, you exploit them. Now what's that say about your balls? That they're probably a bit black and blue because you're just a couple of todging wankers."

With a rather crude gesture on my part, they're both scurrying off practically pissing themselves.

 _Job well done, Jo._ I congratulate myself with a smirk.

Niko, he's still a bit shaken by this new place and the bigger kids not making it any easier on him. He's sort of clutching his knees and crying into the crease. Poor kid. Not only have we all been forced to leave everything we know behind (literally), we're stuck with some pretty shitty shanks that can't see the bigger picture. We're in this together, not apart.

"That was some pretty good work there, Jo."

I turn around and Nick is leaning against a tree watching us. How long he's been there, I haven't the foggiest, I'm just going to assume that he saw the whole thing.

"Eh, it wasn't much." I shrug, silently hoping he isn't too pissed about my threats.

"It wasn't much?" He seems to laugh. "We've been trying for months to get those two to back off on the new kids. It's never escalated past shoving or insults so there isn't much we can do beyond a firm talking to, and they don't give a shit about that. They just think that because their best friend is a Keeper that they can't be touched."

Before realising it, I'm laughing. "Well that's going to suck for them when their precious Gally can't save them from the Pit."

"Precisely." He smirks. "The thing is, I've been thinking about adding a new position to the Glade."

 _Oh?_ "Yeah? What sort of position?"

He holds up a hand briefly before walking to me, then past me, and over to Niko. "Let's get him to the mess before we talk further. I'm sure Niko here could sure use some of Fry's burritos right about now."

Sniffling like the kid he is, Niko nods and takes a hand that Nick's extended. Nick then wraps one arm around his shoulders and guides him towards the Homestead where I'm sure our illustrious leader can get an earlier dinner out of the Keeper of the Cooks.

"Eat up, kiddo, you've earned it." Nick says once Niko's been seated with a plate full of gumbo and burritos and mac and cheese and anything else a small American child could ever want to fill his gob.

Once we leave the kid to his own devices we find ourselves a seat at the far end away from everyone else to continue our discussion.

"So, you were saying?"

Nick nods. "Since our numbers only seem to be increasing, we're not going to be able to just keep ourselves in check for much longer. People are going to start riling up, fights are going to break out, and there's no one here really capable enough to diffuse these situations calmly. We've all got too much pride, too much ego -"

"Too much testosterone." I joke with a knowing smirk.

"Yeah yeah yeah." He rolls his eyes. "We're just a bunch of hormonal boys, and we need to be kept in line. Happy?"

"Very." I continue to smile. "But what are you suggesting exactly? A counselor? Therapist?"

Nick gave me a shaky 'so-so' hand. "It'd be closer to a limited police force. A few people who're capable of rational thought, aren't easy to provoke, and can do their job without the power corrupting them."

"Who d'you have in mind?" I ask honestly, pulling an apple out of my pocket and biting into it.

"There's a couple of Gladers I've been keeping an eye on." He admits. "There's Billy one of the Slicers, and Jackson."

I can't help but give Nick an incredulous look. "Billy? And Jackson? Everyone says that Billy's jacked and Jackson's just shed the Greenie title! You really think those two are going to be capable of leading any sort of patrol around here?"

"No." He concedes. "That's why _you'll_ be leading them. I want you to be the Keeper."

Of course the prick decides to say this while I've bet a bite of apple in my mouth, so I spit it onto his face. "You want me to what?"

Sighing, Nick wipes the chewed fruit off his eyes. "You're the most levelheaded shank here when you want to be. You've got absolutely no trouble keeping everyone here in line, you're the most objective Glader here, and, between you and me, I feel like you've done this sort of thing before."

"What makes you say that?"

"You are absolutely the only case of Greenie that didn't freak out when you learned about the Maze. You didn't cry in a corner for two days, you didn't even flinch when you first heard the Grievers. Call me crazy, but being calm under pressure seems to be your specialty."

* * *

 **Year 228 - WICKED Shooting Range**

* * *

"Wonderful scores, Jo! You're doing fantastic!"

For my 13th birthday, Uncle Janson decides to rush my marksmen training. You're not supposed to start until you're at least 16, but he made a special exception for me. Says that it can't possibly be dangerous, not when I'm the daughter of Yves and Mills.

He pens something down onto a clipboard. "If you keep this up, you can start training the others in all facets of combat within the next few months."

"And that means the maze trials can start that much sooner!" I exclaim with genuine enthusiasm.

He smiles up at me before gesturing to follow him. "I think it's about time you actually met all of them."

It's hard to contain my excitement, but I manage to the best of my ability. Uncle places a comforting hand in the small of my back and he leads me down the hallway. We pass through the barracks, the mess, and then we make our way to the dormitories. They were built ages ago and now they're finally being put to good use.

I'm honestly surprised when we pass by the girls wing and Janson doesn't stop. But when we come to the common area between the two I cast everything else aside. There's a group of perhaps 15 standing in front of me, all my age, all boys, and they look - absolutely miserable.

"Uncle?" I whisper as quietly as I can. "Why do they all look so sad?"

"Must've been something Reggie served in the mess!" He laughs convincingly. "Now, enough of that, let me introduce you to the first inductees to Group A!"

He gestures to them, boys of all different ethnicities and sizes, and amongst them is Minho! I look at him and wave, but he doesn't seem to see me. He's staring at the ground like the others, slack-jawed and hazy-eyed. I'm slightly concerned, still I press on.

"Jo, I'd like you to meet Nicholas, Albert, Galileo, Mozart, Stephen, Newton, Min-"

I stop listening. I'm focusing on the boy just to the left of Minho. Newton, that's what Janson said his name is. Something at the back of my skull is screaming at me, shouting to the high heavens that that's wrong. He looks so familiar to me, from the freckles across his nose to the messy tawny hair atop his head, I know this boy. I turn to Uncle to ask how that's physically possible, when those uncontrollable thoughts yell at me to keep my trap shut.

 _This place is wrong. He's wrong too._

How can that be? He's my uncle!

 _Then who is that boy? You've seen him before. You shouted his name!_

No, no I haven't, there's no way -

 _You know who he is. I promise you that._

If I do, why don't I remember him?

 _Why don't I remember anything? Why don't_ we _remember anything? Have you ever asked yourself that?_

I remember - I remember -

 _There's so much wrong here, you just can't bring yourself to admit it!_

I shut out the thoughts nagging at the back of my mind. I don't know where they've come from but it's become rather bothersome as of late. I can't even go five minutes anymore without them rearing their ugly heads. Making me doubt the people mum and dad told me to trust, why would they betray me? Why would they want to hurt me?

 _Didn't mum and dad always teach us to think for ourselves? To come to our own conclusions?_

That's right, they did! Since before I could remember they actually wanted me to doubt others, to let my instincts take hold and to make the right call. They always said that my intuition was the strongest and purest they've ever seen, that my abilities as a tactician is rivalled by no other, not even them. And that's why they -

That's why they were stationed here at Headquarters. They were never supposed to leave the base. They're strategic tacticians, meant to remain in safety and coordinate movements from their compounds. They never should have left the base, it goes against their skill set. Uncle is smart, he never would have sent them out there, so they have to still be here!

 _They are._

A chill runs up my spine and the thoughts have officially silenced themselves. Something else is coursing through me, understanding, purpose, I'm starting to see through the cracks in the facade that Janson and Ava have constructed around me. And it's about damn time.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Sorry if this is all a bit confusing, I'm working an angle. Hope you guys are enjoying it even though I'm really bad at updating. Leave a review if you have the time? They make me smile!**


	12. Chapter 11

**Year 231 - The Glade**

* * *

For a while now, Minho and I have been getting pretty close. And I mean _really_ close. Ever since I became the Keeper of the Baggers I've had a lot more time on my hands. It's not that I don't do my job, I do that very well, I'm just not forced to muck around after Gally from dawn to dusk anymore. I'm running every morning, with Minho, I enjoy a nice dinner, with Minho, and I take a calm stroll of the Glade before I go to bed, with Minho.

In all honesty, I barely noticed it when it started happening. That's mostly because it wasn't anything at first. Some coy comments here and there, a stray glance, nothing major, and at the time I thought nothing of it. Spending every second of the day with some bloke, Minho wasn't anything special. Boy was I sorely mistaken.

It really all began one morning, we'd just finished our morning run, no one was awake yet, and we were having the time of our lives by the North Door. That's actually nothing new, but trust me, that day was different.

"Wait, you did _what?_ " He laughed boisterously.

"Let me tell you the whole story." I chuckled. "There was one day when Gally was being a right prick, made little Put cry, for Christ's sake, so I was itching to bring him down a peg or two. Like I do so well. And miracle of all miracles, it just so happened that fate had smiled upon me that day. Gally's fly was down that whole afternoon. And you know me, defender of justice and all that, I told everyone I ran into that day about his deplorable state.

"So, knowing this, you probably won't be surprised to hear that absolutely no one told him. It was bloody fucking brilliant. We all laughed and laughed and laughed, and around dinner I actually told that sorry shank of his sorry situation. If he had more power and if Nick didn't like me so much, I'm sure I would've been in the Pit for the night." I smirked. "He did have me relocate all of our lumber the next day though, but it was well worth it."

Minho was laughing up a storm, and when he stopped he was giving me this odd look. "It's about time someone attempted to humble that shank. Shoulda figured that you'd be the one to do it."

"Me?" I said as innocently as I could. "Disrupt the apple cart? Perish the thought."

Still chuckling, Minho took a step closer to me. "You really are - something, Jo."

I threw him a coy smirk. "Am I? What sort of something?"

"You're just -"

And then the Doors opened, signalling the start of the day and Minho took a couple of steps back, blushing the whole while. I really didn't think too much about what he said, mostly because we say that sort of stuff to each other all the time. This was the first time he blushed, though. Cheeks red as Nick's sunburnt ging face. I thought it was all friendly banter, maybe it's not to him?

 _Do I want it to be just friendly?_

He ducked his head down and started towards the Homestead. "I'll see you later, Jo."

"Yeah." I muttered. "See you later mate."

Of course, Minho's an attractive bloke. You'd have to be absolutely blind not to notice that much. But amidst the being deprived of all my memories and being dropped in a Maze, monstrous creatures killing my neighbours and everything else, I hadn't given anything like that much thought. How I miss those days. Call it my girl brain getting the best of me, but it's all I've really thought about as of late. Minho and me. _Shit._

Now I can't wait to spend my time with Minho, can't wait to see those black eyes of his smile down at me, can't wait to hear his laugh, I just can't wait. Recently he's gone out late a couple of times to the Maze just because we were chatting away and lost track of time. I've got it _bad_.

"So, you and Minho?" Newt asks me suddenly later that day, taking the seat beside me.

 _Bloody hell_. I think to myself in exasperation. "Is it that obvious?"

"Not really." He shrugs. "But he _is_ one of my Runners and you're the reason why he's late to his post more than half the time."

Despite my best efforts, I can't stop the blush threatening to creep across my cheeks. "We're just teasing each other a bit, it's nothing special."

Newt almost snorts in disbelief. "Fat chance of that, you two have been thick as thieves since he was shipped to the Glade, anyone with half a brain could figure out this outcome."

"So the whole Glade knows, then?" I chuckle nervously. "Except for maybe Gally."

He laughs, clapping me on the back. "It's good to have someone stand up to that block-faced moron."

"Funny, Minho said the same thing." I mostly mutter to myself.

"Believe it or not, Jo, but you two are a right fit." Newt encourages. "Everyone deserves to be happy, even when you're stuck here in the Glade."

Unconsciously, I cast a worried glance at him. "Same goes for you, mate."

"Bloody hell, Jo." He curses, taking a swig of Gally's infamous concoction. "Why're you getting all sentimental on me? _Again?_ You're not my shrink, I'm not paying you klunk for these sordid sessions."

"I mean it, Newt." I press on, taking his hand in mine. "It's not so bad here, you know."

For a brief moment, Newt's happy-go-plucky exterior shell cracks, just a tad. I see the pain he's always hiding, I see the worry, the hatred, and every other emotion that's always swimming around in that head of his. The Keeper of the Runners is good at putting on a show, making us all think that everything's peachy, but in reality he's probably the shank who needs the most help. Sadly, not everyone is as keen to his little tells as I am.

He shakes his head, apparently disagreeing with me. "You know how much I hate this bloody place. How could I possibly -" He pauses to sigh. "It's fine, Jo. I'm fine, everything's fine."

"Maybe that shite works on Alby." I say, setting him right. "But I'm not Alby, I know you better than that."

"You barely know me at all!" He protests sort of loudly. "You've only been here for half a year, how could you possibly know _anything?_ "

"I don't know." I admit somberly. "I just do, Newt."

Something about my tone seems to have gotten through to him, his angry face molds more into something akin to understanding, and then into dismissal. This conversation is over, and I'm honestly surprised it got this far. Usually I can't break down Newt's walls, usually he laughs me off within moments of me bring up anything serious. I'm glad I got to talk to him like this. He needs to know he's got someone here that understands him, can see the _real_ him.

Again, he sighs. "Sometimes you're a real prat, you know that?"

I smirk, clapping him on the back. "And you love me for it."

All of a sudden, two Runners come running towards us, Emile and Cai. They look - they look bloody terrified.

"Newt -" Cai starts, out of breath.

"You need to come see this." Emile finishes, beckoning him towards the open Doors.

Newt unconsciously checked the sky. "There's only two hours left before we're locked in for the night. It'll still be there tomorrow."

"Newt -" Cai repeats, lowering him a pained look. A look that meant something quite simple.

Something was very, _very_ , wrong.

"Alright, fine." Newt relents finally, standing up and looking back down at me. "We'll talk more later, yeah?"

I smirk, trying to ease the obvious tension of the situation. "I'm holding you to that."

He casts me one sly grin before running off to whatever the boys wanted him to see. I have a pretty firm grasp of what's out there, they probably lost another Runner. Alex went easily enough, and he was the Keeper of the lot. The Grievers, they're not to be trifled with. Even with my general lack of knowledge of the bloody Maze, I know that it's probably the most dangerous place any of us have ever been.

And when I heard Newt's scream, when I felt it ripping through me, I knew my suspicions were right. I just - didn't know how right they were.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Short chapter is short, but I needed to get a few things out there immediately. Especially since I realized that freaking Minho and Jo didn't have any flirty interactions _at all_. So I decided to fix that. Also, things are about to get real crazy up in the Glade. Shit gonna get real. Reviews are legit my favorite thing in the world, and if you could drop one I'd be eternally grateful!**


	13. Chapter 12

**Year 231 - Deadheads**

* * *

When the sun rose that day, we had seven Runners. Now, we have four. Three Runners. Dead. Minho came to me later, before Nick made the news official. Shit, he was distraught beyond belief. Beck, Lewis, Clarke, all gone. Lewis was taken out by a Griever, Beck attacked it trying to save him, and Clarke threw himself off the edge of the Cliff once it was all over. There's just no Clarke without Lewis, everyone always said it, I just didn't realise it was literal. I don't think anyone did.

"What the hell…" Minho starts muttering to himself as he paces in front of me. "What the fucking hell!"

I'm still in a bit of shock myself. Everyone knows that the Maze is a dangerous place, and that the Runners have the toughest job, but three dead in a single afternoon? That seems - a smidge impossible. I run my fingers through my hair, trying to figure out what the bloody hell is going on. I look up to our cloudless sky, thinking about what our observers could possibly gain from killing us off like that.

That's another conclusion I've come to, the Grievers are creations by whoever put us here, meant to challenge us. I had hoped they were intended mostly as a fear factor, hoped that Alex was just a fluke, sadly I was wrong. Now that they're actually trying to kill us, now that I have _proof_ of that, that puts a lot of things in perspective. I need - I need to see them up close. Despite the dangers, I need to become a Runner. There's always been this urge deep down inside of me to put myself on the front line, just so far my need for situational understanding and preservation have kept me from throwing myself into the fire.

"What am I going to do, Jo?" Minho asks me suddenly, pausing and crouching down on the ground. " I never thought - I mean - they're _dead_ Jo! This isn't how it's supposed to be!"

There isn't much that I can say to calm my friend, grief clouds the mind and I don't do well with that tripe. Personally? I deal with it great. I just don't grieve. But the idea of others hurting - I can't wrap my mind around it. I don't know how to help people like that. And I don't consider myself cold hearted, I'm just positively inept at the whole ordeal.

"How do I keep this up, Jo?" He directs at me. "I - I want to quit being a Runner, but -"

"You can't?" I finish for him, giving him a sad smile.

He sighs, shaking his head. "What the hell is wrong with me? I should be running for the hills! Not battling the need to run back out to where three of my friends were killed!"

"I get it, Minho." I admit. "I'm fighting back the same urge myself."

His eyes widen suddenly, and he takes me firmly by the shoulders. "Please, _please_ tell me that you're joking."

I shake my head. "No, Minho, I'm not."

There's something different about his face right now, he was grieving before, but now he looks positively distraught. "I can't - Jo, I can't lose you too."

"You're not going to lose me out there, Minho." I try to reassure him. "I'm smarter than that."

He scoffs almost angrily. "You need a lot more than smarts out there. Trust me, Lewis was the smartest of us all. He could predict the pathways and the changes of the Maze better than any of us."

"I know, Minho." I groan with a roll of the eyes. "I'm not naive, I know the dangers, I know the risks, and I still plan to take them."

For a brief second, he looks like he's going to protest, but then he relents. "Trying to stop you would be pointless, just - please promise to be careful out there."

I can't help but smile at him. "I'll have you out there with me, I'll be careful for both of us."

"I guess you have a point." He admits. "Of course, you'll need to get Newt to approve you."

I scoff without really meaning to. "Like that's actually an obstacle. I'm Newt's favourite."

"Must be great." He laughs. "That pretty face of yours gets you in with everyone."

Suddenly, my breath hitches in my throat, I can feel my heart rate starting to pick up speed, and time slows around me. It gives me time to think, to register, that Minho actually called me _pretty_. Or at least he thinks my face is. For several reasons, this is a problem. One, he's possibly trying to initiate a more romantic relationship. Two, he doesn't know that I'm actually a girl. Three, several people just died and somehow we've totally forgotten that. Four, I don't know how to respond to his statement.

Of course, I can accept his declaration, tell him I think he's bloody attractive too and kiss his shank face, but how does one go about doing that, exactly? I look up into his dark eyes and I can tell he's trying to say something to me. I clench my fists, inhale, exhale, and time starts to move accordingly again. It's not exactly fair to cheat my way out of situations with my weird talent.

"Jo?" He questions, clearly noticing that I've been a little out of it.

"Yeah?" I reply, shaking my head. "Sorry, zoned out, what's up?"

He looks pretty nervous, biting his lip and his leg's actually twitching a little. "Newt's definitely going to approve you for the Runners, I'm not an idiot. Just - if you could - I mean - oh slim it, don't get yourself killed, alright? I don't - I don't want to live if a Glade without you, do you get me?"

I can't help blushing at what he's just admitted to me. I might be a tactical genius and a master class strategist with literally no memorable experience of the opposite sex or relationships in general, but I can take a hint.

"Hey!" Someone shouts, I think it's Fry. "Jo! Nick's summoned the Keepers, time to put it in gear!"

Makes sense, three Runners dead, it's time for us all to rethink our strategy out in the Maze.

"I'll be there in a minute, mate!" I call back.

"Is that Minho with you?" He asks, quite loudly, as he runs towards the Homestead. "Nick wants him too!"

I give my friend an incredulous look. "Looks like the bossman has something important to say."

"He probably just wants to talk to me about what happened again." He sighs, standing and offering me his hand.

I shrug, accepting his help and getting pulled to my feet. "Seems plausible. I should probably check in on Newt, he's had it real rough these past few weeks."

"Should I be jealous?" Minho smirks.

I bark out a laugh and shove his shoulder. "You're a bloody idiot, you know that?"

He chuckles under his breath. "So you've told me, in that weird accent of yours."

"Oi!" I exclaim. "What's everyone's deal with how I talk? You lot are a bunch of todging wankers!"

"I have no idea what you just said." He laughs, throwing an arm around my shoulder.

On our way to the Homestead, we catch glimpse of Zart and Gally heading into our little make-shift Keeper Hall, Council Hall, whatever you want to call it. We pass through shortly and everyone's already there. Newt looks positively frantic, Stephen looks worried, Nick looks solemn - hell, everyone looks solemn. It's not everyday that a friend dies.

"Looks like we're all here." Nick proclaims, and he sounds exhausted.

"Why the hell is one of the Runners here?" Winston retorts, nodding at Minho.

Nick sighs. "Because I asked him to be here and it'll be important later. Now, onto actual business, we all know what's happened, we lost three Runners today. And, unbeknownst to most of you, we also lost two Keepers."

"Wait, what?" Gally protests loudly. "Two of them were Keepers? Of what!"

Newt speaks up then. "Lewis and Clarke were the Keepers of the Maps. They were in charge of plotting out the Maze and using the details the Runners had acquired to figure out an exit. And now, they're gone."

Nick nods. "They weren't official Keepers, they weren't in charge of anything, just compiling everything we now know about the Maze. Of course, they were also Runners. And now we're down to two."

"Two?" I question, having done the math earlier that day. "What happened to the other two?"

"Emile and Cai quit this morning." Newt laments. "They couldn't accept the dangers."

Winston scoffs in the corner. "Three of you did just die in the course of an hour."

"Trust me, _Winston._ " Newt practically hisses. "I'm well aware."

"Alright, let's all settle down here." Nick tries to placate the lot. "Winston, stop being a dick."

"I'm just saying what we're all thinking." Winston continues to rebuttal. "That the Runners have gone to shit since Alex died. Newt's a crap Keeper and we all know it."

And then, as if a rubber band snapped, Newt leaps across the room at the Keeper of the Slicers. Right on cue, time slows around me and I put myself in between them. I see Newt's eyes dilate, see the rage brewing behind those hazel eyes, and I quickly kick out his knees so he collapses and I put him in a butterfly hold.

"Newt, calm down." I whisper to him. "You need to breathe."

"Isn't attacking another Glader against the rules?" Gally pipes in in the background.

I can hear Nick groan. "Seeing as Jo is Keeper of the Baggers and solely in charge or preventing fights from breaking out, he's allowed some leverage."

Gally doesn't like me, he really doesn't, but I frankly don't give half a damn. I'm too busy focusing on the friend going into a violent manic episode. He's fighting me, and despite my physical prowess, he's got a good half a metre of height on me, and definitely at least a dozen kilos, he'll break my hold eventually.

"Let me go, Jo!" He snarls, almost like he's foaming at the mouth. "I'm gonna kill him!"

Then, for some unknown reason, I start to sing.

"One for Sorrow,

"Two for Joy,

"Three for a Girl,

"Four for a Boy,

"Five for Silver,

"Six for Gold,

"Seven for a Secret -"

"Never to be told…" He finishes for me as he starts to cry in my arms.

Immediately I release the hold on him and I pull him into an embrace. My friend, the one I feel closest to apart from Minho, he's had to deal with more grief than anyone our age should ever have to suffer through. Trying to soothe him, I keep repeating that nursery rhyme in his ear. All the while I'm levelling that pain in my arse Winston a very knowing look. He knew what he was doing, provoking Newt, sending him off a ledge he was barely balancing upon as it was.

"Is he good?" Nick says quietly, understanding clear in his tone.

I nod before continuing to calm my friend.

"We'll continue on matters that Newt doesn't need to be a part of for the time being." Nick announces before pointing a finger in Winston's direction. "You're going to spend an afternoon in the Pit for that, just in case you were wondering. We all have to trust each other, and that includes being understanding to our friends situations. If you have a legitimate problem with how Newt's managed the Runners, you come to _me._ You don't provoke him to attack you just after he's lost about half of his people. You get me? _Winston?_ "

The Glader in question snarls in response, but it looks like he got the message.

Nick wipes off his serious leader face for his usual ging smile to address the rest of us. "I'm going to ask each Keeper to keep an eye on his workers. We need maybe three more Runners so their tasks can be handled up to standard. Find your fastest, send them my way. Newt and I will test them for their merit. Sound good?"

We all look each other and eventually give a reluctant nod. Maybe Winston's a prick, and Gally's definitely a prat, but we understand that the route out of this Maze is the most important task of all. Nothing we do, no one we hate matters if we can't get out of here.

"Alright, that'll come into effect tomorrow. We'll also officially announce the deaths of Lewis, Clarke, and Beck at dinner tonight." Nick sighs again, it's been a real rough day. "Now, I know I didn't exactly consult the rest of you about appointing Jo as a Keeper, and I know I definitely didn't consult you about forming a new job in the Glade. And you all have your suspicions as to why I did it, and yes, it's because I assumed a couple of my Keepers were part of the problem. Sorry about that, but I have to think about the rest of the Gladers.

"Now, I'm taking a vote as to who here thinks it wise to expand the tasks of the Baggers. We need one of the factions to be primarily in charge of taking care of - of disposing of the dead bodies that seem to be increasing. I figured that our newest faction would be best suited for the job. -"

"Why?" Gally scoffs. "Because Jo is jacked and doesn't flinch at anything? He hears that people are dead and he literally doesn't bat an eye."

Nick, he's had enough of everyone, that much I can tell. "Alright, _Gally, you_ can round up a couple of your Builders and _you_ can take care of the rotting corpses. Or, the shank who's constantly stepped up where half of you have run away with your tails in between legs, could deal with it. What do you think?"

Reluctantly, Gally doesn't push the subject.

"Great." Nick says sarcastically. "Now, vote? Let Jo and the Baggers take care of burying the fallen Gladers, raise your hand if you approve."

Looking around, everyone except for Winston raises their hand. Even Gally raises his halfheartedly. No one wants to take care of their fallen friends, and that includes me. I'm just the only one who has the emotional capacity for it. And I'm not actually proud of it, it actually scares me.

"Is that all?" Fry pipes in. "I've got to start cooking dinner."

Now that was an interruption that Nick didn't look like he wanted to kill someone over. "One more matter, and that's appointing the Keeper of the Maps. Since it's how it's been for a long time, I want to put two people in the position. And they're Jo and Minho."

"Wait, what?" Minho blurts out. "Why the hell would you even think that I -"

"You're the only Runner we have besides Newt right now." Nick reminds him. "It makes the most sense that we have at least one Runner mapping out the Maze."

Minho takes a moment to think it over, and even nods in compliance.

"That's all great and good, but why should Jo be a Keeper twice over?" Zart questions.

"Valid question, and I know it seems unfair." Nick concedes. "But Jo has one of the most rational minds I have ever come across. I've wanted him for a Runner since the beginning but he actively refuses the position. Even Alex wanted him, Newt too. It's no coincidence that our two best Runners could sense something in him. So if he won't take a Runner position, I want him for the Map Room. With Minho scouting the Maze he has more hands on experience, and I want Jo compiling the data."

"Makes sense." Fry admits, nodding slightly. "But I don't really get any of this."

"Let him do it."

I look down and Newt's finally righted himself to a point where he can actually speak.

"There's no one better for it." He reiterates. "And I won't give anyone other that those two information about the Maze."

Letting him go, I see Nick smirk.

"Now _that's_ the sort of ultimatum I like!" He exclaims. "So let's vote. Jo and Minho for Keepers of the Maps. Same voting system."

This time, everyone raises their hands. They don't look like they like the hand they were dealt, but Newt's pretty good at getting what he wants. And I will always admire him for it. Of course, Minho doesn't really look pleased with this outcome, and there isn't a doubt in my mind that he'll perform his new task with his usual tenacity. He's got a knack for going above and beyond.

"Perfect, just the outcome I wanted." Nick says, standing and clapping his hands together. "Now, we're all dismissed to the Mess for an early dinner, we've deserved it."

"Aw man." Fry groans. "Will you guys at least give me a few minutes head start?"

"Get goin' Siggy!" Zart laughs. "We're hungry!"

Of course, Fry takes off for the kitchens, hoping to get a leg up on the onslaught he's about to face. The others follow suit until there's only Newt and myself left. Minho only left after getting a clear hint from yours truly that Newt needs to be alone. Granted, I can't bring myself to leave.

"Do you want me to get Alby?" I ask him quietly.

Newt sort of shakes his head while wiping away the residue of his tears. "No. I don't to be near anyone."

That was - a pretty significant hint. "Alright, I guess that I'll just, follow everyone else to -"

"Shit, I didn't mean you." He says suddenly. "Can you - can you stay? Just for a minute, I'm - I'm alright I just -"

"You don't need to make excuses for me." I smirk sadly, cuddling into his side and leaning my head on his shoulder. "One day I'm hoping you're going to learn that."

He returns my same morose look, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and we just - exist. For the rest of the night we didn't really move much, didn't say much either. We actually ended up falling asleep there. And then we ended up getting woken up by Nick's laughing his arse off at the sight of us drooling on each other. I'm just glad, that for one night, things were almost back to normal.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Totally didn't realize that The Fever Code came out, totally haven't read it, so obviously this isn't canon with it. Though, I totally called Nick being the original leader. It was implied, never verified, until our overlord King Dashner confirmed it. Anyways, things are getting interesting, more dramatic, and within the next five chapters there will possibly be the arrival of Thomas. It'll be great! Anyways, reviews are love, no this isn't a love triangle, and happy reading!**


	14. Chapter 13

**Year 229 -WICKED Mess Hall**

* * *

Today, I was finally given my own WICKED ID and keycard. Today, I stopped being little Joan and became Ms. Knight. Today, I officially became the physical and strategic tactician tasked with training the various groups that will be going into the Maze. And honestly, I'm so excited. This has been promised to me for years, and now I'm here. Not only that, now I have almost unlimited freedom.

So now I can start figuring out what's actually going on here. In all the time it's taken me to achieve this position, I've started to see some more inconsistencies. The information that I'm receiving about the mission is different than what the others are getting sent to their tablets. To what degree, I'm not quite sure, I just know that my orders aren't the same. I'll figure it out eventually, but for now, I wait.

"Hey, Jo." Someone says as they occupy the seat beside me. It's Thomas, actually. He's gotten a lot more talkative over the past few years. Unfortunately.

I cast him a side glance. "Oi, what's up?"

He almost laughs in disbelief. "What's up? Only you becoming an official WICKED operative like Teresa and me. It's about damn time, actually."

"I know it, you know it, everyone knows it." I tease. "Why're you really here, Thomas?"

He smirks, turning around and leaning back on his elbows. "Nothing gets by you, does it?"

I shrug, not taking my eyes off my tablet. "So far, no. Nothing has."

There's always this look on Thomas's face, one I don't like. One that says "I know more than you", comes with child geniuses. Teresa has the same look, but his is worse. He's far smarter than anyone in the unit and sure does love to flaunt it. Another reason why I haven't gone digging around in the systems. The Wonder Twins would catch me as soon as I put out the scent.

"The actual reason why I'm here," Thomas starts, "is that Teresa and I made something special for the Maze. Something to _really_ spike their killzones."

"Oh?" I decide to play along. "And what might that be?"

He stands suddenly, practically skipping towards the doors with that dumb cocky look on his face. "Why don't I show you?"

I hate to admit it, but my curiousity has definitely peaked. Sighing in frustration, I slip my tablet into my bag and follow my co-worker into uncertainty. He takes me down the hall into the creature modification labs. I had no idea the twins were involved with the things they make down there, but I'm hardly surprised. Those two have fingers in plenty of pies.

"Behold!" He exclaims, practically giving me a heart attack. "The Wardens!"

Thomas is gesturing broadly to the glass separating us from his - creation. They're - they're honestly grotesque. Large creatures, balls of sludges with mechanical spider legs poking out from them at odd angles, and each have one larger stinger protruding from something that could only be their mouths. Nothing about them looks natural, not a single thing.

"Bloody hell, what are these things, Thomas?" I protest, looking away from them, especially when one decided to spew some sort of black sludge.

"Like I said, they're the Wardens." He beams proudly. "Don't worry about the seepage, they're not perfect, and I think it adds to their charm."

"What's the purpose for these?" I ask. "Surely they're not your new pets."

That actually made him laugh. "No, not this week. They're designed to scare our little test subjects. What's the point in just having them wander around the Maze with no obstacles? Teresa and I figured this would be the best option. Some scary sludgy things to keep an eye on the Maze, keep it functional, and scare the living daylights out of some kids."

I have to admit, with my tactical brain in control, it does make sense. They're testing the killzone, the killzone doesn't light up unless there's conflict. It'd be like wiring a Christmas tree and then forgetting to plug it in. The problem is, I hate admitting that Thomas is right. About anything. Cocky mischievous prat.

"Doesn't seem like the worst idea you've conjured." I admit reluctantly. "Chancellor Page approved of this?"

He nods, moving to lean against the glass. "Sanctioned and approved, they'll be massed produced and will be ready to insert into the first two groups into the Maze."

"You really got this fast tracked, didn't you?" I chuckle, giving them one more look before turning away.

"I stressed how successful they'll be." He says. "I mean, even you, steely-eyed Joan, can't look at them too long. They're already serving their purpose, and it's only going to get better from here."

* * *

 **Year 232 - The Glade**

* * *

The few days after losing our three Runners, Newt pulled me for training with the others. Like I said, this new urge to go into the Maze is unexplainable. Though I'm only a temporary Runner while they find others to permanently fill the spots, it's a start. Minho's in charge of our training while Newt heads out to the Maze to keep running the routes. I thought that perhaps it'd make more sense for Minho to run while Newt trained, but I'm not Keeper of the Runners, he is. If he wants to poorly run them 'round in circles, who am I to complain?

Anyways, we were shown the in's and out's of being a honest to Glade, Runner. There's the weapon shed, the map room hidden in the Deadheads, in the weapon shed there were a few knives, I think I saw a wrench, and at the end of our tour we were each strapped with our own Runner's harness and given a pair of trainers. It felt good to have some actual shoes on my feet.

"Don't get cocky, _Bagger_."

I unconsciously roll my eyes as Gally tries to provoke me, yet again. I don't know how he managed to pull it off, but both him and his second-in-command Ben were wrangled into being temporary Runners as well. No one in any of the factions really stood out as great candidates for the program. I'd be a permanent Runner if I wasn't a Keeper, Nick hates me for taking this long to take up the position. _Stubborn_. It's a term I will live and die by.

Maybe I should watch what I think around here.

We don't do much on our first day, just run, Newt clearly stated that he doesn't want us out in the Maze just yet. Granted Minho and I are the only ones rearing and gearing to head out there immediately (we're a bit jacked, I admit it, I accept it, I embrace it, I'll make the best of it) so no one else is itching to delve into almost certain death.

Once we all finish up our training session and go back to our official duties for the day, Minho runs up to me with a couple of bottles of water in tow.

"Good job today, Jo." He commends , tossing me one of the bottles.

I nod as I catch it. "Thanks. Though it's not like we were actually doing much. We both know I can run circles around this lot."

He scoffs. "Running a straight path is one thing, running from Grievers is another."

"And I'll have plenty of practice of both by the time this is over." I smirk, cracking the bottle and taking a big swig. "You and me, we're going to find the way out of here. I'll put money on that."

"Like you've got any money to put anywhere." He laughs. "What're you doing for the rest of the day? Think you can skip Bagger duty?"

"To what?" I chortle mischievously. "To hang out with you?"

He looks away suddenly, his cheeks turning pink. "Well it didn't seem so ridiculous until you said it like _that_."

I can't help but laugh at his embarrassment. "I didn't mean it like that you sorry shank, I mean - when's the last time you _actually_ asked me to mosey about with you? Don't we do that anyway?"

"Oh." He says, chuckling a bit. "Yeah, we do."

Still amused, I push his shoulder playfully and walk towards the Homestead. "Give me about half an hour and I'll meet you in the Map Room, yeah? Newt should be back by then, we should plot some routes before we goof off just so Nick doesn't have our guts for garters."

"I swear, your vocabulary gets weirder by the day." He smirks. "I'll see you in half an hour."

Walking towards the Homestead, I pass by the North Door. There's someone standing there, the latest Greenie, can't quite remember his name, and he's got a worried look on his face. At first, I think it's just the Greenie nerves, looking out into the Maze and being utterly terrified of what's out there. Just to be safe, to make sure he doesn't just trot out there and get himself picked off by a Griever, I jog over to him and pat him on the back.

"Feelin' alright, Greenie?" I ask honestly.

"There's somefin' moanin' out there." He manages to get out, I can almost see the lump in his throat.

 _Grievers._ "Don't worry, kid. That's just a Griever and they don't ever get this close to the Glade."

"No, it's not that." He protests. "Nick showed me them Grievers, they make more of this - whizzy _pop_ sound. Then like some old gears turnin'. This sounds like when Fry serves up his fish fry and it gets Stephen all sick in his tummy."

That has me concerned. I stand in the doorway, quiet as a mouse, and I try to hear what it is the Greenie's hearing. It's hard to make out, but I definitely hear something. I can't really tell what, whether it's the winding rushing through the stone corridors or -

 _Newt_.

I freeze almost instantly when I realise it, Newt went out the North Door that day. If there's something human out there making that sound, it's Newt. No one else it can be. Suddenly, time starts to warp like it does when I most need it to, it slows, the edges of my vision blur, and my focus centres out into the Maze. One step, two steps, then I'm out running like a bat straight out of hell.

"Go get Nick and Minho!" I yell back at the Greenie as I enter the Maze for the first time.

I come to the first intersection and stop, time still slow, I whip my head in both directions, left, right, left again, the moaning stopped temporarily and I can't figure out where he is. The Maze is - disorientating. It all looks the same. Had I been anyone else, I'm sure I would've been overwhelmed. But I'm Jo, the jacked shank who doesn't even flinch in the face of danger. I thrive in it. So I close my eyes and use my most useful tool at this point, my ears.

 _C'mon, Newt. Give me something._

The slightest sound bounces off the walls and I take the pathway to my left. From then on the moaning gets louder, my instincts kick in and I take a direct pathway to him. My eyes are darting in all directions, my hearing might be trained on Newt, but everything else is looking out for danger. Luckily, I don't find any. As I round one last corner I see him, laying in the middle of the corridor, his leg bloodied and twisted in an extremely unnatural angle. Quickly, I run to his side.

"Shit." I mutter, covering my mouth when I see the pool of blood around his leg. "Newt, what the bloody hell happened?"

That's when I notice it, he's crying. The sound I've been hearing hasn't been him moaning from the pain, but from his sobs? Why?

"It didn't work…" He mutters, turning away from me. "It didn't work…"

Realisation strikes and I have a theory, it's not a good one, and I don't really want to think about it at the moment, so I decide to do something useful with my time. I stop focusing on the pointless things, like his tears, and I help the sorry sod to his feet. He curses when I get him up, wrapping his arm across my shoulders. His leg - it looks bad.

"Just - just leave me here…" He begs me, tears dripping onto my shirt.

"No way in hell, mate." I protest, finally balancing his weight and starting back towards the Glade. "I hate to be selfish right now, but there is you fucking way I'm letting you give up."

He lets out one good sob, practically choking on it, and mostly remains silent after that. And, as luck would have it, I didn't have to take him far on my own. I'm rounding a corner when Minho almost barrels into us. He's panicked, as he should be, and probably quite a bit pissed.

"What the hell were you thinking!" Minho nearly shouts as Nick jogs up behind him. "Are you _trying_ to get yourself killed?"

They both take Newt from me and I follow them back to the Glade, not even bothering to answer Minho's question. Partially because I'm not quite sure to whom the question was intended. Not that it matters who it was for, I know the answer either way.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Ugh, I was both excited for and dreading this chapter since I first thought up Jo. Had to address it, it's a major plot point in the pre-series. Still haven't read the Fever Code. Probably won't until we get into the actual Maze Runner plot so I don't start mixing canon with fanon. But, from what little I know about the Fever Code, some of my initial vibes that I got from the characters and their motives are pretty spot on. Maybe I'm better at this writer thing than I thought. Things will be a bit morose for maybe one more chapter, and then get light hearted again, and then get dark again. Ugh, sorry. I don't like it either. Anyways, reviews are my favorite thing, distracts me from my life falling apart, which it is, very thoroughly. So drop one if you have the chance and make this tired writer smile? I'd definitely appreciate it. Ciao!**


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